


A Long Grift

by musterings



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Explicit Sexual Content, Gladio's in a shitty place in his 30s, Ignis is a grad student in his 20s, M/M, Mutual Pining, Transactional relationship to friends to idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-02-19 01:09:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22002835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musterings/pseuds/musterings
Summary: “All I’m sayin’ is, work keeps me busy, and picking people up every night takes effort. Compatibility between us obviously isn’t a problem if last night was any indication.” Sitting back, Gladio slung an arm on the back of his chair and he gave Ignis a lazy grin. “I’ve been lookin’ for something more convenient, you clearly need some money, and you sounded like you had fun too—so how about it?”Ignis slowly blinked in astonishment.He’s not suggesting what I think he’s suggesting is he?“How about what?”When life drives Ignis into a corner, he learns to accept help from an unexpected—and a little less than savoury to his liking—source.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 29
Kudos: 145





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> content warning for this chapter: rough sex somewhere in the middle and they've both had a bit to drink, but it's all consensual

The metro pulled up and its doors opened out onto the platform, and finally Ignis could breathe. He squeezed through commuters packed into the train, his backpack in his arms like a battering ram to get him through the disgruntled morning crowds of labourers in their fluorescent yellow and orange vests. The hour Ignis travelled to university was far too early to be considered rush hour, and yet it brought with it an entirely different group of commuters who needed the early service as much as he did. 

He elbowed his way through the turnstiles—which failed to let him through at one point, resulting in having to plead to the disgruntled station staff to let him through—and out of the metro station. Then began the next part of his journey by bus.

If Ignis had the choice, it would not be public transport.

Much like it hadn’t been his choice to sell his car for money to stretch across three months of rent, nor was it his choice that the person he was splitting the rent with had unceremoniously walked out on him, leaving him to cover the entire thing month-to-month.

Finding a new place to live close to university in the middle of the academic year was a struggle already, but finding a place that was affordable _and_ allowed pets? Practically impossible, and Ignis wasn’t about to give up Rosemary either. Even if he did find a place, it wouldn’t be the right time. Almost half a decade he’s lived and accumulated his belongings in their small apartment, and moving it all to a new place would cost him a lion’s share of time or money, or both. With his looming deadlines for his thesis, and both of his part time jobs cutting his shifts bit by bit like some form of primeval torture, Ignis simply could not afford to give up either.

The early morning was the only time Ignis could get a solid chunk of writing done, and today it was especially important he made it count, what with his supervision meeting landing just before his shift at the cafe. He unlocked his assigned office, a small room with a small desk—with a drawer of a not-so-small collection of Ebony—and a computer. It’s not much, but most grad students are used to even less than _much_ , but it was all he needed for him to put his head down for the next few hours and make headway with his thesis.

* * *

“You're going to have to extend your candidature Ignis," said his supervisor. The man let out a deep sigh, his eyes shutting for a moment through the exhale, as if he delivered the news with a heavy heart. Anyone who had spent longer than an hour working with Professor Ardyn Izunia would know that to be false. As anyone who had spent longer than an hour working with Izunia would sooner question if the man even _had_ a heart.

Izunia simply had quite the flair for the dramatic. But he had an excellent track record, was well funded, well supported and well connected. 

"I don't need to extend it," said Ignis, leaning forwards in his chair, "I only need two or so weeks to collect the data, less than a week to complete preliminary analysis, in time for my last progress review—"

"It’s too ambitious,” Izunia leaned back and waved his hand. “You said you’d address issues with accessing government data _two_ _months ago_ Ignis. I’ve yet to see any of this new data."

"I _have_ addressed them, which is why I’ve said, I’ll only need a few more weeks,” Ignis rubbed his eyes under his glasses, but he refused to lose his composure. “I hadn’t anticipated the hiccoughs we’ve had, but I’ve ironed them out—”

"No one would’ve, and no one ever does,” Izunia tapped his pen on his desk, and offered a smile. To Ardyn it would’ve been comforting. To Ignis, it was nothing short of unsettling. “Almost everyone extends their candidature Ignis. It’s less stress and a cleaner dataset for you, a more polished draft for me to look at—everyone’s happy. An extra six months would do you a world of good." 

Ignis had drawn up the plan for his adjusted protocol himself. He _can_ pull it all off in a month, and finish the first draft of his writeup the following month. But his adjusted schedule let very little time, for very little else. 

"You've the potential to make waves in this field Ignis, you’re one of the most brilliant students I’ve had, but it’ll only harm your track record if you did a slipshod job of it, and your supervision team, myself included, have high hopes for your body of work. If you keep up the output you have now you’d make a competitive applicant for the university’s postdoctoral fellowship.” His supervisor rose from his seat, and walked around to Ignis’s side of the desk.

“But you’re one out of hundreds,” Izunia said, examining his nails as he spoke. “Slip up in your research output even just slightly and you can kiss your glowing prospects goodbye.”

“ _Unless,”_ Izunia, leaned on the front of his desk, standing in front of Ignis, “You wanted to drop a bit of the teaching and marking load you’ve got with me. I could gladly take them off your hands, give you more time to expedite your work—”

“That won’t be an issue,” said Ignis, before taking a deep breath and letting out a metered exhale. The extra money he received from the classes and marking, no matter how meagre they were week to week can make the difference between having electricity running for the week or showering in ice cold water. “I mean to say sir, I can manage the workload perfectly fine, even if I continued my current study load as it is.”

Izunia blinked up at Ignis, slowly, as if an idea had occurred to him.

“Are finances the problem Ignis? I understand you won’t be able to extend your scholarship. My boy, if there’s anyway _I_ can assist—”

“Not at all,” said Ignis, quicker than intended. “I’ve done research into top-ups. I’m sure I can secure a few.”

There was something disconcerting about the way his supervisor offered him help. The extra classes and paid hours marking papers, Ignis could understand, many academics with the funding would happily palm those off to lighten their own teaching loads to focus on their own research. But Professor Ardyn Izunia extended his assistance in various _other_ ways that can be easily misconstrued as inappropriate, and Ignis, would err on the side of caution and politely refuse.

His supervisor’s face curled into a smile. “I take it you’ll consider it then?”

"I understand the merits and the drawbacks of this decision,” Ignis said, very diplomatically despite how much he seethed inside. “And I will think about it, and when I’ve made the decision, I will get back to you."

"Good man. Have a decision ready before your next progress review.”

 _That’s only a month away_ , Ignis wanted to protest, but no, he couldn’t show his supervisor any further incompetence. With Ardyn as his supervisor _and_ his teaching manager, he could easily cut those teaching contracts with a snap of his fingers. Ignis calmly set the door closed behind him, before briskly striding down the hallway, almost breaking out into a trot to get back into his office. He turned on his laptop, and opened up various iterations of his schedule. He can manage, he _can_ work his way through it.

But as sleazy as the man was, Professor Izunia was partly correct. With a university as prestigious as the _Royal Insomnian_ , there would be many elite candidates vying for that fellowship. Ignis needed all the output he could get, but not to the detriment of the careful balancing act that was his finances. 

He took off his glasses, set them down on his desk, and massaged over his closed eyelids. He had a small savings account, not as large as it used to be, with emergency money for well, _emergencies_ , which he intended to be for _small_ emergencies gods willing, but nothing to this extent. He can stretch that through the next few months, while he applied for the top ups and saved anything else he got from his shifts at work.

An hour or two at most was all Ignis could manage to squeeze out of writing the next chapter of his thesis before his alarm dinged off to get ready for his first work shift of the day. It was only a short bus ride into town, an outfit change and an addition of an apron, until he was making cup after cup of coffee at an inhumane speed and efficiency at a cafe in town. Only a university town would have an afternoon coffee rush.

Prompto let out a weary sigh when the last customer from a lingering queue received her order. “We were lost without you this morning Iggy.”

Ignis continued to wipe down the coffee machine. “Blame my supervisor.”

“How’d your meeting go anyway?” asked Prompto, crossing his arms and leaning his hip on the edge of the counter, his eyes wide and at full attention.

Ignis didn’t want his friend to worry, but at the same time, he couldn’t lie to him either, not when he gazed up at Ignis with sincere concern.

“Izunia wants me to extend my candidature.”

“Wai— What? I thought you said, that _he_ said—”

“That I was on track yes,” Ignis finished wiping the nozzle of the milk steamer, and he stuffed his rag in his apron pocket. “But all of the sudden he’s _offering_ to take his teaching load off me if I don’t. Says that’s the only way I can maintain my output.”

“Yeesh.” Prompto let out a whistle. “Are ya gonna do it?”

“I see some merit to his idea,” said Ignis, instead of _I don’t really have much of a choice,_ “loathe as I am to admit it, I don’t think I can manage writing and working _and publishing—”_

“Hey are we even talking about the same Iggy here?” Prompto slapped Ignis’s arm, and quickly rubbed the spot he hit. “You can do all that in your _sleep_.”

Ignis suppressed a smile. “And as good as you think I am Prompto, I can’t afford to slip up now, with all the time and effort I’ve already put in.”

Prompto roughly ruffled his hair, as if it didn’t look unruly enough. “It all sounds so complicated.”

“That’s just how it is, I’m afraid." Ignis shook his head solemnly, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He preferred the mad rush to caffeinate the aptly named sleep deprived students of Insomnia to the late afternoon lull, where time seemed to crawl until the end of his shift, until he had to rush off to his next shift for his other job.

One unread message sat in his inbox. Speak of the devil.

“Everything okay?” Prompto asked, the sound of Ignis’s deep exhale catching his attention.

“They just cancelled my shift.”

“You mean at the grocery store? Did they say why?”

“No. Just that it’s been cancelled.”

Ignis slipped his phone back in his pocket, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he mentally calculated how much of an impact seven hours of work can make on his budget for the month. 

“I’m sorry Iggy.” Prompto shifted on the spot, his brows drawing together in worry. Prompto was one of the only friends who knew how precarious Ignis’s financial situation was. “If there’s anyway I can help—”

“No, no, that’s fine,” Ignis sighed. It’s not like Prompto fared any better than Ignis did. His only saving grace was living in an apartment a fraction of the price of Ignis’s, but shared with three others, farther out from campus. He offered Prompto a smile. "It’s only one shift. I can use the time to write in any case.”

That seemed to brighten Prompto somewhat, just enough for the two of them to get through the rest of their shift together. Prompto finished up first, having started earlier, and had waved Ignis off with a “See ya later!” his eyes glued to his phone as he jogged out out of the cafe. Some hours later, Ignis clocked out of his shift. 

On the bright side, there was no question of what he would do with his suddenly open block of seven hours. He hitched his backpack over one shoulder, waving off the manager closing up the afternoon, and broke off into a sprint towards the bus stop. He made a quick stop back home to refill Rosemary’s water and food bowls under her careful scrutiny, and fixed himself a quick snack, before heading back towards the direction of university.

“ _Where are you?”_ asked an oddly curious text message from Prompto at around 8:00PM in the evening.

“ _I’m back in my office,”_ Ignis messaged back. “ _Why?”_

“ _No reason :)”_ was all Prompto had to say. “ _Good night Iggy!”_

His phone remained silent for the next hour, and by then Ignis was already distracted from the curious exchange he had with Prompto. On this day of the week, his friends knew he’d be working until midnight. Ignis supposed it was only normal Prompto would worry for him on an evening he didn’t always have free.

* * *

“What are you two doing in my apartment?” Ignis exhaled. Cindy sat on Ignis’s couch in a short yellow dress, her legs drawn up over the cushions while she painted her toenails bright pink. On the floor, Prompto sat cross legged, also dressed in his Friday’s best, Rosemary rubbing her white fur all over Prompto’s plaid pants.

“Thought we’d get ready here so we can all leave together,” said Cindy as a matter of factly. “Prom’s picked out your outfit.”

“My what?” asked Ignis. He locked his front door behind him, hanging his bag on a nearby hook with his jacket.

“Wait, Prom didn’t tell ya?”

“He seemed _busy!”_ Prompt exclaimed. “And I figured, it can be a surprise—”

“What’s a surprise, Prompto?”

“We’re goin’ out, it’s Friday night, friends go out, we’re friends,” Cindy waved her nail polish brush around, before honing in on another toenail. “I heard about the shitty day you had hon, and ya need the break—”

Ignis sighed. “Did Prompto forget to mention the part where I do not have the funds for this?”

“Don’t be such a worry wart Iggy, me and Prom agreed to split paying for your drinks—” Prompto nodded enthusiastically from the floor, “But once Prom’s done with you, you won’t need us payin’ for your drinks, just sayin’—”

“You two don’t have to do this.”

“But we want to!” Prompto jumped up on his feet, and shoved Ignis from behind, pushing him towards his bedroom, while Rosemary ambled after them. “You work so hard, you need a bit of a break!”

“I don’t have time—”

“Iggy darlin’ you and I and Prom all know better than most that you were gonna spend this evening watchin’ those weird murderer documentaries all night,” Cindy yelled out from the living room. “You have the time to hang out with your friends. By the time I dry off my toes, you better come out here lookin’ like someone ready to swindle a bar.”

“Gotcha Cin!” Prompto called out.

“No you do not—”

* * *

They ended up in a small bar downtown, away from campus, Ignis thanked the heavens. They took their seats up the bar where Prompto and Cindy did pay for the first few of Ignis’s drinks, drinking and laughing together, the two talking about anything and everything to keep Ignis’s mind off everything else. It was too good to be true for Cindy and Prompto to keep the alcohol flowing, even with their joined wallets, but Cindy was nothing if resourceful. Her wily charms were put to good use, chatting up patrons nearby who would send drinks her way, only for her to pass it down to Ignis. It worked maybe three or four times before everyone else caught on, it was a _small_ club, but before long, Ignis was pleasantly buzzed, joining in on their chatter when he could offer anecdotes that had nothing to do with work or sleazy supervisors, which all have admittedly taken over his life. 

"Ooh I love this song!" Cindy piped up. "Come on you two, come dance with me!" 

"You can't afford nearly enough alcohol to convince me to do that," said Ignis sternly. In fact he was making that last swindled drink last for as long as he was able, even if it was an overly sweet cocktail that left the taste of bubblegum in his mouth. 

"No need to convince me!" said Prompto.

"But Iggy!"

"I'll be okay here, you two enjoy yourselves." 

Cindy pulled Prompto to the dance floor, while Ignis nursed his loud and piercingly sweet drink. For all its sweetness though, it was strong. His chin propped up on the back of his hand, Ignis glanced down at the alcoholic concoction. _Can’t even afford my own alcohol_. After a shake of his head, Ignis tipped his head back and downed the rest of his sugary drink in a few gulps.

"If I get you another, could I convince you to do that again?" said a voice from beside Ignis. From the corner of his eye, he could see the man move down a stool, taking the spot that Cindy left empty. 

"It’s worth a try," muttered Ignis, emboldened by the alcohol and further disinhibited by his nerves. He lifted his chin up slightly, angling the corner of his eye to survey the man beside him, careful to conceal his curiosity.

The man was almost a full head taller than Ignis, his stature imposing even from where he sat on Cindy’s vacated bar stool. His wide shoulders and broad torso tapered down to a narrow waist, accentuated by the tailored fit of his three piece suit. His eyes tracked up the man’s broad torso and to the man’s face, all sharp jawlines and leering smoulder, dark hair pulled together in a low effortless bun. Ignis met the man’s eyes. 

The thick eyebrows framing them raised slightly, and one corner of his lips twitched up. 

In his inebriation, Ignis hadn’t noticed that the man was fully aware of the journey Ignis’s gaze travelled across the man’s body.

The other man’s lips broke out into a full grin. He flicked his hand up at the bartender. “Could you get us another round?” 

The bartender walked off to the other end of the bar to fix their drinks. The bar wasn’t exactly cacophonous, not like the cheap college bars Ignis and his friends frequented and that their budgets limited them to, which often doubled as live venues for up-and-coming garage bands that should stay in garages, if such a concept existed, but here though the pulsing music was loud, it was a pleasant buzz and thumping for the bodies on the dance floor. 

And all of it seemed to recede when this stranger spoke. 

The bartender set their drinks down in front of them. 

Ignis eyed his drink, a bright pink concoction in a tall cocktail glass beside the stranger’s short tumbler of amber liquid. Too caught up with the stranger’s easy flirting, Ignis had forgotten he was drinking one of Cindy’s rejected cocktails.

The stranger let out a deep chuckle. “You don’t really hafta to chug it y’know,” said the stranger.

“I still feel up to the challenge,” said Ignis with a small sip of his drink. Just as sickeningly sweet as the last one.

“And what? Deprive me of the time I could be spending chatting up a looker like you?” 

_Not subtle at all_.

The stranger extended his hand.

“Gladio,” he said with a wink.

Eyeing the hand in front of him, Ignis took it in his in a firm handshake. His hands were large, proportional to the rest of the man, with long thick finger— _Why am I thinking about this?_

“Ignis,” he said.

The stranger called Gladio returned his grip with a firm one of his own.

“What’s a fella like you doin’ taking your friend’s drinks on a Friday night and not gettin’ bought drinks of his own?” said Gladio.

“It would be a shame to put good alcohol to waste, the quality of her prospects in men aside,” said Ignis, his cool demeanour belying the tumult of confusion and nerves and _excitement_ in his gut. It’s that cocktail of emotions that made him ask, “What’s a man like you doing buying drinks for a guy like me?”

Gladio held his glass to his lips. “I see a new face, I wonder why we haven’t been introduced yet, so I address the problem myself.”

“A can-do attitude,” scoffed Ignis. 

“Exactly,” said Gladio with a sip of his drink. 

“Should put that on your résumé **.** ”

“Say if I did,” said Gladio, swirling his drink in his hand, “your place got any openings for a big strong man with a can-do attitude like me?”

Ignis swallowed down his drink in a hard gulp to mask how he choked at the man’s forward questions. “How would you even know a _big strong man_ was what I was after to begin with?”

“I don’t.” Gladio chuckled. “But hey, that’s how the hunt goes anyway, right? Try everywhere you can, even for the things you’re obviously not qualified for. Eventually someone’ll take ya.”

“I take it that’s where you got to where _you_ are now?” asked Ignis, his cool demeanour as he sipped belying the loud and fast pounding in his ears and the fact the _he had no idea what he was doing_.

The man called Gladio let out a large bellowed laugh. “You’re a funny one,” he said.

“Is that the kind of characteristic you’re after in a hire?”

“Normally, but there’s usually no time for that when I’m involved.” Gladio’s lopsided grin was devious for sure, and it stirred something in Ignis’s gut he couldn’t quite ignore. “Not all that much talking at all involved really.”

Ignis scoffed. “Having been graced with even a few minutes of your _stimulating_ conversation, I daresay that’s probably how the other party prefers it.”

Gladio laughed again, unfazed by the barb of Ignis’s words. “I make up for it in several other ways.”

“You’d have a lot of compensating to do,” muttered Ignis.

“I think I do though more than enough.” Gladio smiled into his tumbler before draining the last few drops of the bottom. “So,” he said, when it seemed Ignis had nothing else to say nor do but sit there and let his ears burn under the man’s leer, “the alcohol hasn’t gone to waste—” he nodded at Ignis finishing off the rest of his drink “—what say you and I put the company to good use too? Y’know, judge for yourself if I do enough to make up for my stellar personality.”

Ignis’s fingers curled tighter around his glass. He looked up and Gladio shot him another lecherous grin and a quick wink. To top it all off, his large hand had landed on Ignis’s knee, enough of a distance for Ignis to push it away.

Ignis blinked down at himself. What business did this man have picking up Ignis of all people? He looked like a right mess, the scowl he wore with his outfit only now relaxing in his shock. He hadn’t had time to style his hair or correct whatever fashion wrongdoings Prompto had exacted on him before they left his apartment, and Prompto had made it part of his civic duty to pick out his darkest and tightest clothes, whilst also deliberately leaving him to look disheveled and unruly.

Meanwhile this stranger called Gladio looked like he stepped straight out of the cover of Lucis’s Richest 100 with a suit that had to have cost more than Ignis’s entire student debt. He was certainly objectively attractive, but with his cocksure attitude and advances that lacked subtlety and finesse, this _Gladio_ wasn’t the kind of man Ignis would ever go home with. Not that he’s ever attracted the attention of men like Gladio before. If Ignis were to be truthful to himself, he hadn’t received any attention from other men in a long time, nor the time to try and garner it, not since his last relationship. 

He was never really in the right headspace since, Ignis would always reason, but now, four or fove or so cocktails braver, the thumb on his leg rubbing slow circles on his knee, swirling his better judgement away with the rest of the thoughts that had occupied his brain all day, several hours from a lost shift and his supervision meeting from hell, all he could think was—

_Well, what the fuck._

His life has been on a one way train down the metaphorical shitter for several months now and was showing no signs of stopping, he may as well get a literal dick in him as a pat on the back for his best efforts. 

Ignis could only manage one weak nod before the stranger called Gladio was on his feet to pay for his tab. When he returned, Ignis rose off his bar stool, and the man called Gladio was leading him out past the crowds and thumping music, and out the bar with a hand on his lower back.

The cab Gladio flagged down weaved through the towering buildings of the city, and to Ignis’s surprise, towards the highrises nestled with the heart of Insomnia’s centre. The tension inside the taxi was palpable, Gladio’s idle chatter more or less faded into the haze it left between them. More to reaffirm himself than anything, Ignis slowly reached out and put his hand on Gladio’s lap.

Those golden eyes widened in surprise and met Ignis’s gaze, before blinking down at his lap. His lips curled into a smirk, and he placed his hand over Ignis’s. “Still up for it then?”

 _Fuck it_.

Ignis launched himself into the man’s lap and captured his lips in a ravenous kiss. It must have taken a moment for Gladio to register what was going on until he was kissing back and his hands were pawing at Ignis everywhere, rumpling him even more. A hardness rapidly grew against Ignis’s leg where he straddled the man’s thick muscular thigh.

“Enthusiastic,” Gladio groaned. “I like it.”

In response, Ignis grabbed him by the crown of his hair and dove his tongue down Gladio’s throat. Their groans muffled against each other’s lips and the loud rustling of their clothing against each other the only sounds in the cramped taxi, and after a particularly loud moan from Ignis after the roll of Gladio’s hips, Ignis still had the sobriety to question why the tax driver hadn’t made any effort to extricate them from each other.

“He wouldn’t dare,” Gladio muttered, his voice smug, low and thick with arousal.

Ignis hadn’t had the time to be embarrassed by the fact that he had wondered that out loud, since Gladio was sliding his palms up the back of his clothed thighs and all Ignis could do was curse Prompto and his choice in tight denim for his outfit for the evening.

They separated long enough for Gladio to pay their most likely shocked and embarrassed taxi driver, the grin Gladio shot him shameless as he punched what had to be a sizeable tip in, if the taxi driver’s wide eyes were any indication. Ignis could only attempt to give him an apologetic look while he held his shirt closed and stepped out of the taxi. His eyes landed on the entrance to the highrise they parked in front of and doubt dropped like a lump of lead in his stomach.

“We still good?” Gladio asked, the shadows cast by the streetlights hiding his expression.

“Of course,” Ignis scoffed, one hand still holding his unbuttoned shirt closed whilst he willed the nerves out of his voice. Stepping out of the heavy heat that had built up between the two men in the taxi, the cool evening air was like a blast into Ignis’s face, and served to clear Ignis’s lust-addled mind somewhat and contribute some logic to his situation. Only the rich and famous could afford this deep into the city.

As he puzzled these details out in his confusion and alcohol addled brain, Gladio was tugging him into an elevator and Ignis’s eyes widened when Gladio jabbed a button for a floor all the way in the 30s, but before Ignis could open his mouth to ask, Gladio’s heat engulfed him again, his lips pressed against Ignis’s preventing any further questions, the friction between their groins preventing any further coherent thought. No matter how expensive those pants had to be, the material could not hide the sizeable erection Gladio pressed against him.

For almost thirty floors the elevator ascended, fortunately never needing to stop. Ignis slung his arms behind Gladio’s neck, rocking his hips against his while they tangled and slid their tongues against each other. The wet smack of their lips and Gladio’s heavy groans over the hum of the elevator goaded Ignis on to rock against that length harder, and crave what it would feel without the expensive material between them. Just as Ignis hooked a leg behind the other man’s hip to better rut against him, a rich moan rising out of his throat as he did so, the elevator dinged, and the doors slowly slid open.

“Good,” said Gladio. His lips glimmered in the elevator light. “Any longer and I was ready to fuck you in there.”

Ignis’s heart raced in his ears, the reality of what they were about to do crashing down on him now that this stranger’s laid it out to him in plainer terms.

Gladio took him by the hand, leading him down to the corridor in brisk steps. It was fortunate that the hour was late, and that there were no inhabitants around to see them in this state, their clothing rumpled, a clear tenting in both their trousers, and Ignis’s bright red flush extending to his ears, glowing even redder when Gladio unlocked his apartment door with a lurid wink.

The door swung open and Ignis had to pry his jaw off the floor. This apartment had to be three, four, five times the size of his own flat, opulently furnished with dark, sleek furniture, illuminated by the lights provided by the floor length windows city views. Yes, Ignis was beginning to shake off the drunkenness from alcohol, but being drunk off the confusion of the situation could be the only explanation as to why his legs took him towards the direction of the kitchen, so that he could run his hands over the countertops.

 _That’s definitely real marble_ , he concluded.

Gladio’s hand was on his lower back back, and just that momentary heat felt good, that Ignis couldn’t help but let himself be led by it down a dark corridor and towards a dimly lit bedroom, where Gladio slammed him against the door, taking his lips again.

“Still okay?” asked Gladio through a quiet laugh, his expression in the dim light unreadable.

“Why do you keep asking me that?” said Ignis, exasperated. _Because you’re drunk Ignis,_ his last sober brain cell supplied. “I cannot express anymore explicitly how much I need this.”

“Oh, _need_ , huh?” Gladio flashed him a smirk, and granted him another roll of his hips.

A momentary slip of the tongue that Ignis dared not entertain, instead choosing to fumble with Gladio’s belt while Gladio stripped him down.

Gladio pushed him down onto the bed, and Ignis bounced atop the mattress, _firm, had to be expensive,_ left only in his haphazardly unbuttoned shirt and his underwear.

Gladio stripped out of his own vest and slacks, and one part of Ignis’s brain had the mind to protest the treatment of such expensive clothing with the way Gladio threw his vest in a heap on the floor, but Gladio’s pants dropped next and were thrown to the side with his vest, and he slipped his button up shirt up and over his head with a flourish, granting Ignis with an eyeful of bulging muscles, lined with dark sprawling tattoos that spanned the man’s shoulders and forearms.

Apparently Ignis’s mouth hanging open in rapt attention was simply not enough, and Gladio shoved his boxers down to reveal his long, thick, uncut cock, stiff and erect, jutting away from a tuft of public hair. It was leaking at the tip, a drop of precome rolling down to guide Ignis’s gaze down its thick and veiny shaft and settling at Gladio’s heavy balls. 

A deep chuckle wrenched his gaze back up at the man’s smug smirk.

“Like what you see?”

“Oh _fuck_ me,” said Ignis with resignation, in part a reaction to his current situation— _could this Gladio be any more of a tool_ —but also very much an open invitation.

“Gladly,” said Gladio. “Get on your hands and knees for me.”

Throwing his own shirt to the floor—if this floor was good enough for Gladio’s expensive suit, it’s good enough for Ignis’s shirt— Ignis rolled over, bracing himself on his hands and knees, the blood that raced in his ears with nerves now shooting down to his dick in anticipation. Years of being in a relationship that ended in eventual complacency, may have made the blood thrum in his veins harder at Gladio’s simple command. He’s had casual encounters since then, all sloppy and inexperienced, or subdued and restrained, much like what his partners assumed Ignis to be. 

Ignis tended to attract a type.

Gladio’s hands tugged his underwear down his legs, past his knees and off his feet, chucking them to the side with the rest of their clothing. A light smack connected with Ignis’s rear, and Gladio chuckled at his small yelp.

And Gladio was unlike any other type of man Ignis has ever attracted before.

“Cute ass you got there.”

“I could say the same of your dick,” Ignis bit back.

“Yeah, nah, not what that dick thirsty look you had on your face just then said.” The warm flesh of Gladio’s cock made contact with the cleft of his ass, and Ignis moaned when he stroked it between his cheeks. “Gonna open you up real good.”

Gladio leaned over to the side to rifle through his bedside table and Ignis peered over his shoulder. Behind him Gladio was rubbing lube between his fingers, until his gaze met Ignis’s.

Gladio winked.

With another furious flush, Ignis buried his face in the pillow, his timing perfect as a thick wet finger penetrated him.

“You don’t have to go slow,” Ignis moaned through gritted teeth. _Gods, where did this Ignis come from?_ “I want to feel it.”

“I dunno if we’re still joking around about the size of my dick, but in case you missed it, I’m huge.” Gladio pushed a second finger in nevertheless, and that was a burn Ignis hadn’t been acquainted with in a while. “It’d wound my pride if you came out of this feeling like shit.”

“But you could still hurry it up.” Ignis rocked back onto those fingers, gasping when they hit his prostate. “There— Add another—”

“You really are a needy little slut aren’t’cha? Wouldn’t have thought it when I picked you up—it’s always the quiet ones.” Ignis resented that, but the third finger was even more of a stretch, making him yell into the pillow. None of his previous partners have ever felt anywhere as thick as their own three fingers, nor three of _Gladio’s_. They stretched against his entrance, bordering on painful, just enough for the pleasure to be overwhelming until Gladio rubbed along his prostate.

The pain, and the pleasure. It was as close as Ignis could get to muting every other thought in his mind, and honing on those alone.

“Fuck me,” Ignis said again, and this time it only meant one thing.

“Can’t be any clearer than that.” There was the sound of a wrapper tearing behind him, and Ignis twisted around to see Gladio roll the condom down his—Ignis had to admit—massive cock.

Another smack against his ass had him falling forward against the pillow. Hands clamped around his hips, and that large cock pressed against his entrance, until the head caught his rim, making Ignis moan into the pillow.

“Still good?” asked Gladio with a grunt.

“I’m fine.”

Bit by bit, Gladio’s cock penetrated him, the girth stretching him out further than Gladio’s fingers could prepare him for, until eventually, Gladio’s balls were pressed flush against Ignis’s rear. There was very little time for Ignis to recover until Gladio was rolling his hips, and snapping them against Ignis’s rear harder.

“Oh—!” Ignis gasped.

“Feel good?”

“Yes—” said Ignis, panting heavily with each small thrust. 

Gladio drew out further on the windup, and thrust back in harder, hitting Ignis’s prostate head on.

 _This guy’s good_ , better than anyone he’s ever taken, but all Ignis could offer him was another strangled moan.

“Harder—” Ignis moaned, “I can take harder—”

“Fuck— You’re such a slut—” groaned Gladio, and he thrust in faster, the slide of his cock inside his walls making Ignis’s head swim and unwinding his body from the knot it had worked itself in all day, and Ignis wondered why he was even so high strung to begin with, but Gladio was hitting his prostate again, and the rush of endorphins flushed out whatever worries he had housed in his brain away, his focus squarely centred on the large cock inside him and the heat that it built up in his groin.

“Do that again— Ah!”

Fingers tangled in the back of Ignis's hair, yanking at his scalp as Gladio tilted his hips and drew back in, every second thrust striking Ignis’s prostate, making him scream louder into the pillow.

“Just like that—” Ignis rocked back, his movements messy as he tried to meet Gladio’s thrusts. “Yes— Like that—”

Realising this to be the perfect angle, Gladio’s pace quickened. “Yeah? You like my cock stretching you out?”

“Yes—!” Ignis cried, his own words sounding foreign to him. He’s never had a partner with a mouth as filthy as Gladio’s to respond to, but Ignis had always been a quick study. “Fuck me harder—”

“ _Fuck,_ you’re so hot— Your ass is so tight—”

The sounds of their skin slapping against each other, Gladio’s balls knocking against his rear, the fingers digging bruises in his hips, all felt so distant and imagined, but yet still felt so real.

“I’m close—” gasped Ignis.

Gladio leaned forward and grabbed his leaking cock.

“Oh— _Gladio—!_ ” Ignis wanted to cup his hand over his mouth for even daring to call out the stranger’s name, but that hand engulfed his dick, and the heat in his groin and the pressure against his prostate forced that name over and over, back to the forefront of his mind. “ _Gladio—_ I’m gonna come—”

Harder and faster, Gladio thrust in him in an unrelenting pace, his hand pumping to the time of his thrusts, until a drive against his prostate had Ignis squeezing his eyes shut. His vision blared white behind his eyelids, a scream of Gladio’s name escaped his ragged throat, and it took him a second to realise he was spilling into Gladio’s hand and all over his bed.

“Oh—” Ignis panted hard, his legs quivering, struggling to keep himself up as Gladio slowly milked him dry.

“ _Fucking hell_ Ignis, you’re so fucking hot,” groaned Gladio, slowing his hips, thankfully, as anything against Ignis’s prostrate began to feel like a hot poker.

Pulling himself off Gladio’s dick with a thick groan, Ignis turned around and blinked down at Gladio’s still hard cock and then up at Gladio’s raised eyebrow. Ignis rolled the condom off that large cock, throwing it off the side of the bed.

“Allow me,” said Ignis.

Gladio looked puzzled, up until Ignis swallowed his cock down his throat.

* * *

Ignis couldn’t figure out if his pulsing headache made for a better alarm than his phone did. He blinked his crusted eyes open and smacked his dried up lips. His mouth still tasted like alcohol and something else, something salty. A quick survey of his surroundings confirmed that he was in an unfamiliar bed, and bare naked. 

The bedroom he was in had to have been the size of his entire apartment alone. There was a heap of clothes on the floor at the end of the bed, a hodge podge of Ignis's old clothes intertwined with an expensive looking but crumpled up suit.

A crumpled suit that had last night, peeled back to reveal rippling, bronzed muscles. Beneath that broad chest was a rumbling voice, one that coaxed Ignis through orgasm after orgasm until he was well and truly spent. The same voice that groaned and yelled loud while Ignis worked the other man’s cock in his mouth.

Squeezing his eyes shut and taking a deep breath, he let his mind careen through mortifying memory after memory, until the sound of a shower spray from the adjacent bathroom distracted him from his self-flagellation.

His cue to leave.

Rising up on uneasy legs, he frantically collected his clothes, pulling on his underwear before digging through the pile of clothes on the floor, until his phone rang from the pocket of his jeans.

There were several missed calls from Prompto and Cindy, and even more text messages from the pair, a few of which were from earlier in the morning. 

“ _I saw you leave with someone_ ,” texted Cindy. “ _Let me know if you’re okay_!”

Less calm and collected was Prompto’s most recent message, “ _Please text back soon so we know you weren’t taken home by a mass murderer!_ ”

Ignis sighed. “ _I’m fine_ ,” he messaged them both. “ _Talk later._ ”

His phone rang again in his grip, this time showing the contact name for his boss at the grocery store. He can’t ignore this one, much as he really needed to get out of this apartment fast.

“Good morning Ignis, is now a good time? It’s kind of urgent.”

 _No it isn’t, but_ —

“Yes, now’s fine.” Ignis rifled through the pile on the floor for his shirt.

“It’s about our store.”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry to break this to you, but head office is shutting our branch down next month.”

Ignis froze, from where he was putting one arm through his sleeve. “I— What—?”

“We’ve known for a while our store hasn’t been performing as well as the others but last month’s profits were the final nail in the coffin.” His manager sighed. “If you could even call it a profit.”

“Wait, what would this mean for us?” asked Ignis, knowing full well exactly what it meant. “Is there any of the other stores we can go to?”

“I’m sorry to say this Ignis, but no. The other stores in the region are being forced to cut down on staff due to budget cuts too, and trust me, I’ve tried my best to find you a different store to move you to. You’re a reliable worker Ignis, but there was nothing else I could do. The least I _could_ do was let you know as earliest as possible.”

“There has to be some sort of consideration in place, I’ve worked for this company for years,” said Ignis, his voice fraying at the edges, frantic words tangled deep within his chest tumbling out of his mouth, “I have my rent— and my bills— and— I lose my scholarship in a month—”

“I really am sorry Ignis. If I hear of any openings, I’ll make sure to refer them to you.”

Rubbing his temples with one hand, he let out a shuddered exhale. He shouldn’t be unloading this on his manager, not when he was kind enough to let him know in advance. “Thank you Takka, really. For letting me know.”

“I wish you all the best my boy.”

 _All his best_ ? _What would that pay for_? The shock settling in, Ignis crumpled forward, half-naked in a heap on the floor, his head in his hands as he tried to process what one less paycheck meant for the coming month.

The sound of the shower spray ending and the bathroom door opening brought Ignis’s thoughts to a screeching halt. Great. Another inconvenience he can add to his morning.

“Hey, you alright there?” asked that familiar rumbling voice.

Ignis looked up from his heap, up at the man in front of him. His muscles glistened from the moisture of his shower, and droplets of water rolled from his dark hair, leading Ignis's gaze to his towel hanging dangerously low around his hips.

“My apologies,” muttered Ignis, glancing away from the dangerously handsome man before him.

Using one hand to dry his damp hair with a towel, Gladio cast a curious glance at him, and offered a rare serious expression.

“If you don’t have to be anywhere, do you wanna have breakfast?” asked Gladio. 

Breakfast with the stranger who nailed him to this high priced mattress like it was the last day on Eos was the last thing Ignis could possibly want to do right now, but so many of his stresses were clambering for room in his brain, it left little space for reasoned thinking, all he could do was weakly nod and be swept along.

Gladio searched through his wardrobe, and said, “Feel free to use the shower by the way.”

Ignis frowned.

“I mean, unless you weren’t plannin’ on putting your clothes back on, I’m keen on that too,” said Gladio with a smirk over his shoulder.

Half-dressed only in his shirt, Ignis hastily collected his clothes in his arms and scurried into the bathroom while the other man had his back turned towards his chest of drawers, almost as if they hadn’t already spent hours the night before with their naked limbs rubbing up against each other in every way possible. He took in the gleaming white bathroom with awe, before dropping to his knees in front of the toilet, and he regurgitated all his swirling nerves and confusion and alcohol and everything else into the toilet.

“Everything okay in there?” asked Gladio from outside.

“Shut up,” Ignis yelled back through the acidic taste in his mouth.

* * *

After Ignis had entertained the idea of a quick shower and a rinse of his mouth, it was a silent trip down thirty floors in the elevator, and Ignis couldn’t figure out if it was better to keep his eyes closed the entire trip down but have images of him rutting against a stranger in an elevator flash behind his eyelids, or to keep them open to the scene of the crime, while Gladio leaned against the railing, meeting Ignis’s inadvertent glances with a smirk.

After exiting the building, it was a short and awkward walk to a nearby cafe that Ignis could only dream of ever being able to afford to even step foot in. Acknowledging that Ignis was probably intent on keeping his mouth shut, Gladio ordered for them both while Ignis stared at the exorbitant prices people were paying, for _breakfast_.

 _What am I doing here?_

The waiter brought them their coffee first, and Ignis remained silent while they sipped, with Gladio mostly occupying himself with his phone, tapping out messages at lightning speed. He had dressed down, almost unrecognisable in his skin tight white shirt and dark understated jeans, his hair tied up in a half pony. Peeking out from the collar of his shirt was an angry red mark on his neck. 

Ignis averted his gaze back to his cup of plain black coffee. _What was I on last night?_

The waiter soon returned, setting down plates heaping with artfully arranged eggs and bacon and hashbrowns, trimmed with tomatoes and sliced avocados.

“Figured you could use a meal,” said Gladio, effectively cutting through their silence. He picked up his cutlery in either hand. “Only thing you’ve got in your belly right now has to be—”

“—don’t say it—” hissed Ignis.

“—alcohol,” finished Gladio with a self-assured smirk. “Why, whatcha think I was gonna say?”

Ignis set his lips in a tight line as he took his utensils in an iron grip before digging into his meal. They ate in silence, the only sounds between them the loud scrape of Ignis’s cutlery along his plate.

He could feel Gladio’s perplexed gaze on him as he tore through his food with ferocity.

“Ignis, wasn’t it?” asked Gladio. Ignis continued to chew in silence, and Gladio added, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about?” said Ignis through gritted teeth.

“Your little meltdown on my bedroom floor this morning, maybe?” 

“Why would I want to talk about that with you of all people?”

“Whassat meant to mean?”

Ignis threw his hands up in front of him, his expression incredulous. “I don’t even know you!”

“Maybe you don’t, yeah, but you sound like you’re going through some shit, and even if I already got my dick wet, I’m not sending home someone I slept with lookin’ like—” he pointed a fork at the deep crease between Ignis’s brows “—lookin like _that_.”

Ignis let out an exasperated sigh.

“I dunno,” said Gladio with a shrug. “Maybe it’ll help to tell a stranger.”

“I don’t know what to tell you that you haven’t already _eavesdropped_ ,” Ignis began, against his better judgement. But it wasn’t as if he would see this man again. “I’m losing one of my jobs, I lose my scholarship soon and I’m covering the rent of two people.” 

“Scholarship?” Gladio’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re a student? Wait like, you’re”—his face contorted in confusion— “How old’re you exactly?”

“I’m a _doctoral_ student,” said Ignis with a groan. “So as you can see, I have to get going, I’ve much to do as it is.” Ignis pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, the dread of paying for his meal settling with the ample breakfast in his stomach. 

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll pay, I made you get breakfast.”

Ignis released a hollow laugh through his nose, but returned his wallet to his pocket nonetheless. “What, do you think I was charging for last night’s services or anything?”

“Bacon, eggs and hashbrowns, for the night we had?” Gladio barked out a laugh. “You would be seriously underselling yourself.”

Despite being the one to initiate this line of conversation, Ignis’s ears burned red from Gladio’s backhanded, well what was it, _compliment?_

“I have to go,” said Ignis again.

“Really, Ignis, I had fun last night. We could do it again sometime,” said Gladio. He forked his last bit of bacon to his mouth, then set his fork down on his plate and wiped his mouth with a napkin. He dug through his own pockets for his own wallet, and pulled out a sleek black business card. _Gladiolus Amicitia_ . _Amicitia Corporation_. Ignis’s stomach recoiled. “And in exchange, if there’s anything I can do to help, just give me a call.”

“Help?” Ignis asked, turning the dark piece of card in his fingers with a raised eyebrow.

“All I’m sayin’ is, work keeps me busy, and picking people up every night takes effort. Compatibility between us obviously isn’t a problem if last night was any indication.” Sitting back, Gladio slung an arm on the back of his chair and he gave Ignis a lazy grin. “I’ve been lookin’ for something more convenient, you clearly need some money, and you sounded like you had fun too—so how about it?”

Ignis slowly blinked in astonishment. _He’s not suggesting what I think he’s suggesting is he_ ? “How about _what_?”

“You do somethin’ for me, I give you somethin’ for the trouble,” said Gladio. “Kinda like last night and breakfast, except I’d be giving you exactly the amount you’re worth.”

In an effort to keep the bile rising up his throat down, Ignis remained silent.

“You ever heard of a _sugar daddy_?” Gladio continued.

Anger swelled through Ignis’s chest, his cheeks rapidly pooled with rage and embarrassment, and the other man’s continued appraising gaze made his skin crawl. He shot up from his chair and in front of Gladio’s face, he tore the business card into tiny pieces and scattered them onto Gladio’s empty plate.

“Thank you for breakfast,” said Ignis, his tone laced with the finality of his cold anger, and he marched out of the cafe, not once looking back at the self-satisfied smirk on his patron’s face.

* * *

Much to his friends’ disappointment, Ignis refused to divulge any details about his mystery fling. Ignis himself could admit the experience was indeed full of intrigue, the kind that made for interesting stories that made heads crane over in curiosity during parties, but even if Ignis was the type of person to kiss and tell, which he _wasn’t,_ Ignis would rather bury the memories of that evening to the further recesses of his mind, and the smug shit-eating grin of the man that accompanied a proposition that made Ignis flare up in anger at the very memory of it.

For the next few weeks, Ignis balanced his books like an anxious but meticulous tight-rope walker. One less paycheck meant severely minimising on the simple luxuries he had in his life, better quality food ingredients to cook with for one, the one hobby he allowed himself, cheaper brand of cat food, to Rosemary’s uppity disappointment. But he managed, and they will manage, until his rent for the following month came out of his bank account and his scholarship ran out. But that was a whole different beast to contend with.

One evening, as he prepared his dinner of instant noodles, padded with cheap cuts of beef and steamed frozen vegetables, his e-mailed pinged.

 _That should be the roster_. 

As his noodles bubbled over the stove, Ignis pulled up the roster on his phone, and his stomach sank. That can’t be correct. Only one person on the floor during morning and the lunch hour rush? He ran his hand through his hair and punched in the contact details for his manager.

“So, I just received the final roster for the month,” Ignis had asked after he’d dispensed of their formalities.

There was the sound of an awkward clearing of the throat from the other end of the line. “This is about your hours I presume.”

 _What else could it be about_ , Ignis wanted to snap back, but this man was still his employer.

“It has to be a mistake. Four days to two? Have there been any complaints?”

“It has nothing to do with your performance, but you must understand, I’ve recently evaluated our flow of customers with the staff we have rostered on a shift, and I’ve realised that it’s _excessive._ ”

“Excessive,” Ignis repeated. _You’re cutting costs where you can at the expense of inundating your employees, just call it what it is._

“If anything it’s a testament to my reliance on you, that I’ll let you take these shifts on alone,” said his manager. “And I couldn’t very well give you _all_ of the remaining shifts Ignis. It wouldn’t be fair to your coworkers.”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose with a thumb and a forefinger, Ignis switched the stove off and eyed the pot of his noodles. By his feet Rosemary had trodded over, circling his ankles, as if goading him to finish his dinner so Ignis could fix her her own.

Ignis released an exhale. “I understand.”

“I knew you would. I’ll see you next week.”

Ignis locked his phone and quietly set it down on the counter. Retrieving a bowl from one of the kitchen cupboards, Ignis ladled himself his dinner, his simple noodles embellished the best way he could. The first of many bowls for the next few months.

* * *

“You were right to bring her so soon Mr. Scientia,” said the vet. 

Within the next few weeks Ignis had received the last cheque for his scholarship, just after he had used up the last of his grocery store pay. His application to extend his candidature another six months was approved. Never a man of his word, Izunia took away one of the classes he had assigned to Ignis for the coming semester. It was tight, but Ignis _managed_. With no help nor Ignis needing to bother anyone else with his issues no less, and Ignis considered that enough of an achievement.

About a week ago, Rosemary had stopped eating. She seemed fatigued the past few days, a distinct change from the refined air the ragdoll carried herself in. Ignis began to suspect that this wasn’t the same prissy upturn of her nose at the cheaper cat food they’ve had to resort to, when she started never making it to her litter box in time, and that itself had to be strange considering Ignis was a strict toilet trainer. As soon as he had spotted the small pool of vomit she left by the stove, Ignis rushed Rosemary over to the veterinary hospital, but not before making sure Prompto could cover the shift he had to abandon. 

“The first course of antibiotics we’ve administered should stave off the worst of the infection in her kidneys, but we’ll have to put her on a course of oral antibiotics for the next few weeks.”

Ignis quietly nodded, obediently taking the prescriptions the veterinarian wrote out, along with plans for the specialised diet Rosemary would have to be on for the next few months. 

He would have to bring her back for follow-up appointments, and Ignis hesitated to calculate how much those consultations would cost him. As the receptionist at the front desk typed up his bill, Ignis glanced down at Rosemary laid out in her carrier, seemingly too tired to even fiddle with the cone around her neck. The relief to hear her soft purrs distracted Ignis from the bill that the receptionist handed Ignis, and Ignis was at least thankful that her illness’s timing coincided with the receipt of his final scholarship deposit.

Ignis arrived home late, having spent three or four hours at the veterinary hospital’s waiting room before Rosemary could even be seen. He entered his apartment with the cat carrier in one hand, and a bag of her medication and special cat food in the other. He opened up the cage, and after some soft coaxing, Rosemary padded out. Placing his backpack on his kitchen counter, he pulled out a bottle wrapped in brown paper, one luxury he afforded himself that evening—he had already shelled out half of his savings for Rosemary, he could spare chump change for cheap grocery store wine—and a cold convenience store sandwich he had grabbed on the way home. 

He settled in his couch with this laptop on the coffee table and Rosemary on his lap, her purrs soft as she fell back asleep.

"We've had a long month haven't we?" murmured Ignis, running one hand over the soft fur of her back while his laptop booted up. 

He spent an hour scouring for part time jobs who would accept his erratic schedule, and bookmarked a number he would be sending his resume to the following morning. But there had to be something out there, Ignis wondered, _anything_ , that could give a bigger financial return for shorter hours. Then those words surfaced in his mind again, the deep voice delivering them lancing anger through his chest once more. Two glasses of wine past, Rosemary gently purred on his lap, the image of a bright flash of teeth was back on his mind, and his fingers were typing out search terms like _sugar daddy_ out of their own volition. He snorted while he pored over blogs and articles detailing the exorbitant amounts of money people were paying for their companionship, before shaking the ridiculous thoughts out of his head.

Three glasses later, he opened up a browser tab, purely out of curiosity. _Gladiolus Amicitia,_ he typed out, a name he wasn't likely to forget soon, though not for the lack of trying. 

A company website showed first. _Amicitia Corporation_. Ignis was familiar with the company and not just through his own research—the weapons industry not only was one of the most thriving industries in Lucis, it was also one of the most infamous. 

Four glasses of wine later, Ignis had read about all of the national and international contracts the Amicitia Corp. held within the arms industry. They supplied to both allies and also old enemies-turned-allies, with one of their largest contracts with Niflheim _of all places_. Ignis drained the bottom of his wine bottle. With Clarus Amicitia at the helm, Amicitia Corp. was leading in the profits they brought the country through weaponry supply alone.

Clarus, Ignis was familiar with, but his son was more of an afterthought, featuring mainly in tabloids and gossip rags. But Gladiolus Amicitia was not beyond reproach. He was no stranger to scandal, his appearances in media ranging from representing the company in trades deals he managed himself, or in affairs or short-lived relations with prolific members of high society. There were stories of his lavish parties, minor criminal charges—rich people got away with everything clearly, if he could keep repeat offending with those DUIs—and a temper flare-up at a recent press conference.

Then there was that devil-may-care attitude and the ease to which he propositioned Ignis to drop all his sense of moral principles. 

Shutting his laptop closed, Ignis rubbed at his eyes and rose from his couch, cradling Rosemary gently in his arms, careful not to aggravate the cone around her neck. He laid Rosemary by one side of the bed and slipped into his threadbare comforter. _It would be preposterous_ , Ignis thought as he laid his head on his pillow, _and only out of utter and complete desperation_. He let his exhaustion drag him to asleep, too tired to even care he hadn’t changed out of his clothes. 

No amount of money in the world would be ample compensation for tolerating the company of a man like Gladiolus Amicitia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was based off a [kink meme prompt](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/841.html?thread=1064009#cmt1064009) that once again, has gotten away from me. I promise (am hoping) the rest of the chapters won't be as long as this one.
> 
> Many thanks to beefy_noods, whose encouragement and continued supportive screaming about this WIP gave me the confidence to yeehaw this out from the bottom of my prompts to fill pile!! and also to notthelasttime's continued interest/good natured bugging keeping me on task <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no content warnings for this chapter

“What _the hell_ were you thinking?” 

The board room was empty, save for the greying Clarus Amicitia, in his dark suit and grim expression at the head of the table. Seated at the other end was his son, Gladiolus Amicitia, his own expression blank. The tension had filled the board room as soon as the door snapped shut behind father and son, but Gladio has had years of experience ignoring its smothering presence.

“They asked me a question, and I answered,” said Gladio with a simple shrug.

“We have _protocols_ , Gladiolus,” said Clarus with an exasperated sigh. “We have had this conversation time and time again, you say what you’re meant to and everything else will be taken care of.

“Your little stunt can be easily forgotten, and whoever involved compensated, but your little tantrum last week will be a stain on this company for a long time to come,” Clarus’s tirade continued, and Gladio was thankful for the heartier breakfast he had than the cold protein shake he would normally have alone in his kitchen. This would push back his next appointment, because all appointments moved for Clarus Amicitia, which in turn would move his lunch. His near empty stomach only made Clarus’s repetitive lecture more monotonous than it already was. 

“I expect this will never happen again Gladiolus.”

“Yes sir,” said Gladio, only partly-aware of the words coming out of his mouth. Though any breakfast could never compare to the company he had over the weekend, who was a stronger pick-me-up than any cup of coffee too, withhis lithe body, piercing green eyes and a voice that cut like steel, with a sharp tongue to match. _Speaking of that tongue_ —

“Sir,” piped up Talcott, who had suddenly appeared beside him. Clarus had already rose with no more than a nod at his son to walk out of the board room. “You have a conference starting in five minutes back in your office.”

“Thanks Talc,” said Gladio plainly.

By the time he was back in his office, Talcott had already set up his phone, dialled into the conversation and sat at one corner of Gladio’s desk, his laptop on his lap, poised to take notes.

A teleconference was more difficult so to speak—with less visual pressure to maintain the image that you were concentrating, it meant less pressure to _actually concentrate._ Talcott fortunately kept him on task, his informal facilitator who would interject the silence with a faint “Sir?” whenever someone on the other end of the line was waiting for his response. 

His weekend really threw him for a loop. 

For Gladio, a night out of drinking alone was normal, taking someone home was normal, breakfast at his favourite place was normal. Showering his partners with gifts, if he enjoyed their time enough and they met with him again for repeat performances, _those_ were normal too. 

But _Ignis_.

“Sir?”

“Right, anyway—”

_How’d I screw that one up royally?_

“—Are there any further items we need to action?” Gladio could hear himself saying.

Everyone else on the other end of the line agreed that no, all items had been actioned or carried forward and that the next meeting will be scheduled accordingly. Picking up the phone and quickly slamming it back down in it cradle to end the call, Gladio released a sigh.

“Another coffee sir?”

“Nah, that won’t be necessary,” said Gladio with an apologetic smile. He was really keeping his EA on his toes today. He leant back in his chair and pulled out his phone while Talcott cleaned up the notes from their meeting. 

“ _Lunch in ten?_ ” Noctis had messaged him.

“ _I’ll be there in five,”_ Gladio shot back. “Alright Talc, I’m heading out to lunch, I’ll be back in an hour.”

With a wave, he strode briskly out of his office, leaving Talcott to lock it up behind him. He walked down the brightly lit corridors, paying no heed to the eyes of men and women alike who trailed after the figure he cut in his finely-tailored suit. 

He met with Noctis at a bistro closer Noctis's office than his, packed to the walls with similarly dressed corporate types that both he and Noctis could blend into, fortunate enough to find an empty table for the two of them in the back.

“We lost you on Friday,” said Noctis.

“You know me,” said Gladio with a half-hearted shrug.

“Yeah, I do.” Without so much as a glance back at Gladio, Noctis spooned sugar into his mug with a lopsided smile. “So who'd you end up taking home?"

"No one special."

"Well it's not exactly the place you go to find the type right?" 

"I swear you're starting to sound like my Dad." Gladio took a bite of his sandwich, chewing on the mouthful as his glance met a waiter's that walked past. "Is this what fatherhood does to ya?" 

"Fatherhood! There's normally what, nine more months before that normally happens. It's only been a week since we found out," said Noctis with a laugh, but there was a genuine spark in his eyes as he took a sip of his coffee. “You ever wonder though, if Clarus has a point?”

“Sidin’ with my old man now Noct?”

“Hey, I was always his favourite." Noctis grinned, the milk moustache making him look even more annoying, and Gladio would gladly wipe that grin off his face with a well-placed set of knuckles. Fondly, of course. “I’m just saying, the lifestyle you have, do you reckon it’s sustainable?”

“You askin’ me if _war’s_ a sustainable industry?”

“You got me there,” said Noctis with a click of his tongue. “I mean, you ever really thought about it?”

“Thought about what?”

“Settling down?”

Hearing the words come out of Noctis Lucis Caelum’s mouth would make Gladio choke on his sandwich if he hadn’t been stumped by them before. The Noctis Gladio Knew Now was a far cry from The Noctis Gladio Knew in College, whose records in his late night gaming marathons rivalled only the amount of time he could stay asleep when the sun was up, second only to the amount of times Noctis made the joke that unless it was to make room for a full time butler, he was happiest alone.

But as the old adage goes, in those old cheesy paperback novels yellowing away in the back of Gladio’s closets, love can change a person, and there was no better evidence for that than Noctis and his childhood sweetheart Lunafreya.

“It was never really my thing,” muttered Gladio.

A small smirk crept up the corner of Noctis’s lips. 

“I didn’t plan it to be mine either.”

***

After another pair of painkillers after lunch, Talcott had him shepherded from one meeting to another, keeping him on task with his meek little interjections and by shoving his tablet under Gladio’s nose with notes and details of his next appointment, whenever Gladio so much as broke concentration to make eyes at someone or other’s secretary. Talcott may be green, but Talcott was also sharp, and he had eventually learned to be firm working with a man like Gladio.

Talcott was also young though, with social commitments and all that, and Gladio didn’t hesitate to let him go when he excused himself to go home at five on the dot, letting Gladio take the time to go over his meticulous meeting notes and reports from another department in his office, not once taking notice as the expanse of blue sky saturating his office’s full length windows tinged from orange to pink, into a blanket of darkness and blinking lights of Insomnia’s cityscape.

A text message from an unknown number roused him from his task. Light, flirtatious, may or may not be the secretary with the shapely ass, or the waiter from the bistro where he and Noct had lunch. 

Gladio peered over his thick rimmed spectacles, blinking back at Talcott’s meticulous annotations through a draft contract going to legal the following morning. Slipping his phone in his pocket, and whatever documents he hadn’t finished poring over into his leather folio, he departed his office for the evening.

He arrived at his apartment alone, with a plastic bag of takeaway containers slung over his elbow, a stack of folders and his folio under his arm. Dining in would have been a lucrative option, maybe at one of the quieter hole in the walls he frequented that stayed open 'till late, if only to break the monotony of alternating between the impersonal confines of his office and his empty apartment, but Gladio was becoming more recognisable these days, drawing attentions both wanted and unwanted. 

Collecting a fork, a glass and a bottle of scotch from his kitchen, Gladio settled into his sofa, pulling his laptop out of its bag to place on his glass coffee table and flipping through where he last left off on the drafted report. In between poring over pages, he managed a few spoonfuls of curry from his takeaway dinner, and only a few glances at his phone, which blinked to life a few times more—invitations to go out, invitations to _come right in_ —and Gladio swiped some away, or entertained others from closer friends with polite refusals. He adjusted his glasses on his nose and picked up the report he had on his coffee table again. 

By the time he was finished—as far as he could get at least, so he could send off his reports to a fresher and more awake pair of eyes for proofreading in the morning—his half eaten curry had chilled in its container, the only light that remained in his living room was from the glow of his laptop and the range hood from the adjacent kitchen. The amber liquid in his bottle of scotch had dropped significantly since he had sat down some several hours ago. The initial buzz from the first drained glass had long since worn off, but at least the relaxed drowsiness that followed only kicked in once Gladio had snapped his laptop lid shut, stowed his takeaway containers back in the fridge, and stripped down to drag himself to bed, the covers cold against his bare skin.

***

It was a busy month for the company but then again every month had only ever been, since the mounting tensions between Nifhleim and Tenebrae. Lucis and of course, its biggest arms company, _Amicitia Co._ , were both neutral parties to the whole debacle, a most profitable position for them to offer defense and armaments to both sides. The government itself had begun its own agenda, increasing its budget for defence, again citing these mounting tensions happening half an ocean away, and Gladio was in no position to question this, nor the additional profits it brought in. His sister Iris would argue with that, probably. The best position to contest these things is always from the inside, she always schemed over their dinner dates.

The month flew by as did Gladio’s work and his deadlines, and the pretty faces he invited to his bed, all the same thing, day in and day out, as if the green eyes that shot him that glare from his bedroom floor was a mere disturbance to his routine that could kick off once again as soon as this _Ignis_ walked out on him over breakfast.

His Monday morning had been much of the same, though the lips wrapped around his cock and the bright green eyes that blinked up at him when he woke up was a welcome break from routine and he was thankful for the foresight of not sending the busty blonde home from the bar the night before. So much so that he didn’t get in the shower to get ready for work until he had gotten the chance to dive down between her legs to return the favour. Hell, Gladio would’ve given her a full encore had he not promised Talcott he’d be in the office half an hour early for their meeting with visiting foreign investors, and Gladio never did anything by halves. And his partner must have been equally pleased if the number she left on his bedside table was any indication. Another one for the books.

He’d only just stepped onto his office floor, and his assistant Talcott was already by his side, rattling off a quick summary of Gladio’s meetings and talking points for his immediate appointments as they walked the corridor from the elevator to his office. 

“Another thing sir,” said Talcott, whilst Gladio settled into this seat behind his desk.

“Yeah?”

“Your father called this morning before you got in. He requested a meeting be put in your calendar for you today on your behalf.”

“He did what?” Gladio snapped, only winding down with a deep exhale when Talcott flinched away from him. Gladio cleared his throat. “Sorry, I mean, did he mention what matter this is in regards to?”

“None of them,” Talcott all but squeaked. _The poor guy_. “The senator’s daughter is in town,” he cleared his throat, and pushed his horn rimmed glasses up his nose. They both knew where this was going. “He arranged a meeting for you both.”

Gladio’s glance was hard and Talcott returned one that was mostly apologetic.

“For what purpose?”

“A social call.”

“ _Talcott._ ”

“I am unfortunately more afraid of your father than I am of you, sir,” said Talcott, his chest puffed out. In no universe would his executive assistant intimidate Gladio, not in his oxford shirt buttoned up all the way under his chin, but Gladio admired the effort. “So the appointment has been saved in your diary for this afternoon.”

Gladio rubbed the heel of his palm behind his eyes. Maybe it was worth staying in bed between that now nameless blonde’s legs, if this was what the day was dishing out to him.

“Fine,” Gladio said. 

“Please, sir.”

“No guarantees though.”

“For me?”

“That makes me want to go even less.”

***

It has been years since Gladio had spent an entire day livid, and he’d chalk it down to the therapist he stopped seeing two years ago—less that it had helped and more than it was a waste of his time—if it weren’t for reason that the anger he had harboured for Clarus Amicitia’s meddling with his life was downright _exhausting_. It wasn’t even the time commitment. Gladio couldn’t care less about time. But Clarus hadn’t made personal contact outside of business matters since the last meeting he had with Gladio just to chew him out, and now and he didn’t even have the balls to mess with Gladio’s personal life to his face. 

“You know you have somewhere to be in an hour right?” called Talcott out from his office. He hadn’t even lifted his head up to see that Gladio was stepping out.

“I’m just grabbing a coffee, jeez, why did I hire you?” groaned Gladio. The answer was simple of course. Talcott came well recommended by Clarus’s own assistant shortly before his retirement. “Can I bring you anything back?”

“I’m fine sir, thank you.”

He needed the walk to clear his head for the rest of the afternoon if he wanted to get _any_ work done, as clear as he can get it in the hustle and bustle of the city. The crisp air filled his lungs as he stepped out of his building’s revolving doors, but it did little to cool the rage within his chest. His feet led the way, walking aimlessly where they pleased, and soon, the sleek buildings of the business district had given away to the eclectic stores and eat-ins that were more typical to the university end of town. He noticed how cheaper the menus in store windows got, the further into town you delved into—made sense in a way. If you had to shell out that money to live as close as possible to your campus, costs had to be cut _somewhere_. Gladio glanced at his phone as he walked. There was a park, a few streets away, where he would often stop by. He could sit and and bring himself something to drink that wasn’t caffeine nor alcohol, and keep his mind away from talk of money or marriage prospects. He tapped on his phone, figuring out what he should change into for that evening, and if he needed to find a place—

“ _Hey_ —!”

Something, or _someone_ , or _both_ , collided with Gladio’s shoulder. Gazing up from his phone, he took in the boxes haphazardly around him, spilling loaves of bread and bags of sugar, and _oh boy_ , _eggs_ , and one very disgruntled man in an apron sprawled on his side on the pavement, pushing himself up on his hands to get up.

“Aw _fuck_ , are you alright?” Gladio scrambled to the ground to help out the young man, who only swatted his hands away.

“I would have been, if you had been paying attention to your surroundings as you should be in a busy pedestrian—” 

The man’s eyes met Gladio’s. A piercing green filled with an anger Gladio had acquainted himself with before. 

“Don’t I know you?” asked Gladio, his mouth gone dry.

“No,” said the man. “You do not.” He scrambled to shove the bread, the sugar, the smashed _eggs_ , soaking through the carton, back in the boxes. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Hang on, lemme help,” Gladio crouched down, taking the cartons of shattered eggs and placing them in a box away from everything else. “Ignis, right?”

The man’s shoulders tensed. “You’ve helped enough. Just leave them.”

“Hey it’s the least I can do.” Gladio closed the flaps of the box of shattered eggs—maybe some can be salvaged—and stacked it on top of the box of sugar, hauling them both in his arms. 

With a sneer and a resigned sigh, Ignis picked up the box of bread and turned to start walking, assuming Gladio would follow.

“Been well?” asked Gladio.

“Up until I’d lumbered into an escaped gorilla, yes,” said Ignis, his voice dripping with vitriol.

“Ha! I forgot how funny you were.” Gladio stood to the side, as Ignis opened a door to a cafe at the end of the block, holding it open for as long as it was polite. It would’ve slammed into the boxes, but Gladio was quick enough to catch it with his elbow. “I mean, that wasn’t the highlight of my evening with you that’s for sure—”

The box in Ignis’s arms landed with a hollow slam on one of the cafe’s tables and Ignis fixed him with a glare. The cafe’s patrons quickly glanced back at their drinks.

“You may go now,” said Ignis.

“Lemme at least take care of your eggs.” Gladio smirked, and Ignis’s frown deepened, so Gladio counted that as a win. He fished his bifold out of his suit jacket pocket and counted out a few bills.

“That will be unnecessary. I’ll cover them myself. Now, please.” Ignis’s voice climbed down. “Leave.”

A high pitched gasp rang out from behind Ignis.

“I don’t think there’s saving any of these eggs Iggy!” said the blond barista as he rounded the counter.

“It’s fine Prompto,” Ignis’s voice softened. He sounded almost like a completely different person to Gladio. “I’ll run back to the store and replace what’s been ruined.”

“Dude, not out of your own paycheck.” Prompto began to walk back behind the counter. “We’ll split it, lemme grab my wallet.”

“You really don’t have to—”

“That money could be going to _Rosie_ , I’m not gonna let you spend money on eggs that could be goin’ to _Rosie_!” said Prompto. 

“Gentlemen,” Gladio interrupted. He extended his hand out to the man called Prompto, who glanced at Ignis, puzzled, before taking it in a weak handshake. “Prompto was it?”

“Uh yeah?” Prompto’s eyes widened. “Are you a friend of Iggy’s?”

It was almost comical how Ignis jumped, like trying to escape out of his skin. Gladio watched in amusement as Ignis deliberately avoided his glance, and exchanged a look with his sprightly friend instead, “No—”

“Yes,” said Gladio with a solemn nod. “I was stopping by to say hi, but y’know, clumsy me, can’t get anywhere without runnin’ into people.” He counted out bills from his bifold, and handed it to Prompto. “There you go. Real sorry about that.”

“Not at all, totally get it. A big guy like you?” Prompto laughed, flapping his hand dismissively. His eyes darted down the amount he counted out and then back up at Ignis, “Wait, this is too much—”

“Don’t,” said Ignis softly to Prompto. “I’ll go buy the eggs.”

“Naw Iggy, you’re off your shift. It was enough of a stretch to make you go and pick up ingredients in the last ten minutes, go on and spend time with your _friend_ here.”

Prompto’s wink at Gladio was so ostentatious, Gladio could practically hear that sound that in his mind should accompany it.

“I was planning to grab a drink here actually,” said Gladio.

“Oh were you?” said Ignis, his finely manicured brows raised over the rims of his glasses.

“Yeah, I’d come and say hi, thought we can catch up while I’m here,” said Gladio. “Wait, Prompto, has Iggy here told you ‘bout how we know each other?”

Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Prompto clasped his hands together, and whipped his head back to Ignis in excitement.

“As much as I would really love to," Ignis began, in a menacing tone lost on Prompto but Gladio was blatantly ignoring himself, "there’s not much time for that, Gladio here is a busy man, and I myself have to run back to working on my thesis.”

Prompto visibly deflated, but sprang back quick enough to cast amused glances between Gladio and Ignis.

“Come up when you’re both ready to order then!”

***

“Long time no see,” was all Gladio could manage after the long wait, seated alone at a booth, casting sidelong glances at Ignis at the counter, the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding in only dissipating when Ignis sank down in the seat in front of him. Gladio flashed him his widest grin. “Serendipitous, really.”

Ignis looked more or less the same all those weeks ago. Not the Ignis he met that that night no, with his hair all done up, his guarded gaze fixed on the bar in front of him despite how many cocktails he had clearly already downed. Those piercing green eyes remained the common factor—that night, then at breakfast, and then now. If it weren't for them, Ignis would have been unrecognisable in plain but sensible clothes, and a well adjusted backpack slung over tensely drawn shoulders. 

“Clearly not long enough,” said Ignis sharply. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, and glanced out towards the window. Silence stretched before them, and with seemingly no interest to make conversation, Ignis pulled his phone out of his pocket. The sharpness in his glare contorted into frustration, and he rubbed the space between his eyes. 

“ _Fucking hell_ ,” Ignis hissed. He dropped his shattered phone in front of him. “All because you couldn’t look where you were going.”

Sitting back against his seat, Gladio scoffed. “The thing looked about ready to go anyway, I just helped it along.” Ignis shot him another glare that only made Gladio’s grin grow wider. “ _Fine,_ I’ll pay for a new phone too, they probably won’t have that model anymore though, so just do yourself a favour a buy a newer one.”

“I don’t want your stupid money,” said Ignis. “What are you doing here? What do you want from me?”

“You thought I went lookin’ for ya?” Gladio chuckled. Ignis’s childish insults were almost endearing coming out of such a severe face. “I wasn’t lying, I was lookin’ for somewhere to sit and have a drink.”

“Find somewhere else.”

“So who’s Rosie?” 

“That’s none of your business.”

“Yeah?”

“Here you are guys!" Prompto inconveniently interrupted. 

"A flat white for Iggy—” Prompto set a cup down in front of Ignis, and did the same with a takeaway cup for Gladio “—and a chai for the big guy. You guys need anything else?”

“Who’s Rosie?” said Gladio, the question now directed at Prompto.

“Only the cutest cat ever—” Prompto fished his own phone out of his pocket “—so photogenic—” He swiped through his gallery, flipping through picture after picture of a round, ragdoll cat “—isn’t she adorable? It’s funny Iggy hasn’t introduced you two yet, it’s like the first thing he shows people.”

Gladio grinned. “We were busy gettin’ to know each other.” 

Ignis shot him another wasted glare.

“I’ll leave you two to it then,” said Prompto in a tone that Ignis did not seem to like one bit, if his wrinkled nose in disgust were any indication, “by the way Iggy, don’t forget, come by the back on your way out for the leftovers—”

“You spoil Rosemary all too much.”

“She’s just too cute!” Prompto exclaimed. “Lemme know if you need anything!”

“What’s wrong with Rosie?” asked Gladio.

“ _Rosemary_ ,” said Ignis. “And what happens to be going on with her, is none of your business.”

“What’s with the backpack?”

“I’m heading back on campus after this. So if you could hurry up and drown yourself in your drink and we can convince Prompto that our meeting was nothing more than a mistake, that would be appreciated.”

“How about that job problem you were havin’?”

“That’s—”

“None of my business?” continued Gladio. 

“What exactly is your point?” Ignis asked, finally meeting Gladio’s gaze properly. There as a bite to his voice despite the frayed edges that gave away an exhaustion that accompanied his annoyance with Gladio’s presence, and in the afternoon sun’s rays through the windows, Gladio could make out the dark bags lining under his eyes and the pallor in his skin, quite unlike the deep flush a few words Gladio could send him into that month ago.

“My point is, I could _make_ it my business if ya wanted.” Gladio drained the last few drops of his cup. Tonight he’ll wine and dine a woman he wouldn’t even bother checking if he cared any for for, and he’ll foot the bill, _‘cus it was polite_ . That, and if he didn’t, it’d be another phone call he’d rather not have with Clarus. Not that there were any of those he did want to have nowadays. And if he’s pouring his money down the drain, he might as well get _something_ out of it. “My offer still stands.”

Ignis’s chest rose and his brows drew tight. His mouth seemed poised to argue, but he was interrupted by a sharp ding on Gladio’s phone. Gladio’s next meeting was in fifteen, and he’d have to flag a cab to make it back to the other side of town time. Talcott’d kill him if he ran late to the next one, that was, if he wasn’t such a saint. 

“Tell ya what,” said Gladio. Rising from his seat, he reached into his inner jacket pocket, pulled out another business card and scribbled his mobile on the back and laid it down on the table. “Come by the lobby at my office tomorrow at five. Whether you show up or not, I’ll take that as your answer.”

He took his coffee cup in one hand and left the young man to stare blankly at the sleek black card in front of him.

***

Growing up, Ignis’s guardians—his aunt and uncle, a sweet old couple—had only ever raised him on the merits of honest and hard work. 

Minimal effort in exchange for the instant gratification of large amounts of money, in principle, was not something Ignis could ever do in good conscience, should he ever entertain the idea. 

Shifting in the leather seats of the building’s lobby, he glanced up here and then from his laptop before glancing back down at the video he was watching. The press chattered loud into a roar into his earphones. Gladiolus Amicitia stormed off from the podium and a young man darted off after him. 

Unless of course it was someone Ignis had no qualms about taking money from. 

Someone with the money to lose, and whose loss wouldn’t affect Ignis’s conscience at the slightest.

And Ignis had to be honest with himself. He often only would be when he was alone and there was no one else to witness it. The very circumstances he was in the previous night, wide awake in bed, flipping the business card around between his fingers, so it was the perfect time to admit that, the last time Ignis had properly gotten laid was by that _buffoon_. The messy blowjob he gave some stranger at a party Prompto dragged him to barely counted. If Ignis were being honest himself, and nobody else, he needed the money yes, but the sex would be a bonus. 

If Ignis could negotiate terms and appropriate boundaries, he could work this arrangement to his favour. Worst case scenario, he sticks it out a week or two and he comes out of it a few hundred or thousand gained, and maybe even some blackmail material. 

Not that Ignis would ever stoop that low, but he always did appreciate a good contingency plan.

“Knew you couldn’t stay away for too long,” said a familiar voice that snapped Ignis out of his calculating.

Lifting his head up from his laptop, which he really only turned on to ignore the mounting nerves in his gut and the curious gazes of men and women in their sharp suits as they strode in and out of the lobby, he cast his glance on the man standing in front of him, the same man from a month ago, and then a mere day ago, in a dark suit and reflective aviator glasses, and the same smug grin plastered on his face.

Ignis cleared his throat. “I’m here to discuss terms.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> showing my talcott bias a little 😔 writing has been a bit of a struggle lately and i've been trying to get back in the swing of things -- so i hope this reads okay!
> 
> thank you for reading and the response on this so far, and also to anyone who's lovingly bugged me about it (looking at you beefy and notthelastime 🥰) and i will see you all next time (sooner, hopefully!)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning for this chapter: some pretty explicit sex (this is why it's another long one)

Ignis’s major decisions have always come out of thoroughly vetted processes. He would generate mental, or at times, written, lists of pros and cons, weighing out the benefits to any costs—material or otherwise.

Failing that, and only if Ignis were positively directionless, Ignis would consult a third party. In the past, for as long as he had been a teenager, this had been his beloved aunt and uncle. Then, there had been a partner. Once that partner made a major life decision that did not involve Ignis, all Ignis had available then were his friends. 

But, having exhausted both pros and cons and everything in-between, one major decision that led to Ignis stepping into a sleek black car on a late Monday afternoon was not one he could easily put forward for advice amongst his well-meaning friends. It was not an all too difficult scene for Ignis to imagine.

Prompto would offer an all around resounding,  _ No way. Guy’s probably in drugs or something! _

Cindy would curiously and audibly inquire to the size of Gladio’s dick, and upon the lack of an adequate response, would slap the sense back in Ignis’s head, and offer part of her own nest egg out to Ignis, earned from summers of working at her grandfather’s car shop back home.

To which Prompto would frantically and eagerly nod, and offer what meagre savings he had of his own. Ignis could not in good conscience burden them, when his friends were dealing with lives of their own.

Nevertheless, Ignis prided himself in his sensibilities. Throwing the card away would have been the decision that any sensible young man would make, but Ignis needed an outlet for his rage, something to glare at on the couch, and then again in the dim light of the city streets through his windows in bed. 

Ignis was sensible, yes, but innately, Ignis was also curious. In that slim possibility that this Gladio was telling the truth, the rabbit hole only burrowed deeper. 

How far could Ignis take this? 

It almost seemed nefarious, too nefarious even. Ignis’s guardians had only ever raised him to be upstanding and virtuous, and that minute humanity Ignis had left for a billionaire who could charge into his life and wave his money around almost made him back out.

And lastly, Ignis was also only a man, of flesh and blood. A young one at that, with certain needs he deemed superfluous despite their best efforts to make themselves known,  _ and _ his best efforts—poor attempts really—at sating them, swiping through dating profile after dating profile, at least until Gladiolus Amicitia demolished his phone. 

That would be good reason alone that Gladiolus owed him sex if anything. 

And of course—Ignis begrudgingly admitted to himself as he gave Rosemary her medication just before he left his apartment—Gladiolus Amicitia was handsome. Infuriatingly so.

“Ever been this way before?” asked the infuriatingly handsome Gladiolus Amicitia.

“Once or twice,” Ignis answered curtly.

The car wove in and out of narrow streets of the heart of the city, through the looming buildings with their polished windows, amidst other equally as sleek and shining high end vehicles and bright yellow taxis. In hindsight, and hindsight was always 20/20 in Ignis’s defence, getting into a car with a stranger was probably  _ not  _ the best decision Ignis had ever made, but in  _ hindsight _ , at least this time he was sober and it was in broad daylight. Gladio had offered little by way of explanation when he had beckoned with a flick of his chin for Ignis to follow to the waiting car outside his office’s building save for a simple “let’s talk somewhere private.”

Ignis  _ might  _ have taken that a certain way. 

“Where exactly are we going?”

“Got some shopping I need to pick up,” said Gladio, reclining against the cream leather seats beside Ignis, chin in hand while he glanced out his window. He then turned to Ignis and smiled, a slow reveal of brilliant white teeth, in that lopsided way that most people who weren’t Ignis would normally find charming. 

“Surely that’s not something you can do alone?” asked Ignis.

“Normally, yeah.” Gladio’s smile didn’t falter. His gaze met Ignis’s, the heat almost palpable as he blinked down to survey Ignis’s figure beside him, before meeting his eyes again. “But it won’t hurt to see what company you’d make.”

To Ignis’s surprise, Gladio remained quiet for the duration of their short car ride. Politics may be Ignis’s forte, but Ignis’s area of research interests was not the kind of topic that would make appropriate small talk with the scion of Lucis’s biggest arms company. Thankfully, the driver pulled beside a tall building before Ignis had to attempt any sort of small talk, right in front of a set of gold framed glass doors to one of the city’s high-end department stores. He could have spent the rest of the afternoon mouth agape and wide eyed at the gilded doors, if it weren’t for the door on his side opening from the outside jolting him to attention.

Right. Drivers did that for rich people.

Once Ignis had his wits about him, he slid out of the back seat, blocking out Gladio’s obnoxious laugh as he exited through the door on the other side. 

Together, they walked straight through the first floor, men’s accessories, according to Ignis’s curious glances at the display boxes containing gleaming watches and glimmering jewelry, some with price tags that made Ignis’s stomach drop to the floor. They rode up an escalator to the following floor and Ignis made the mistake of reading his face for any tells of what Gladio could possibly be planning, to which Gladio only flashed another self-assured grin.

They reached the next floor, one with blinding white tiled floors and gray walls, the display cases with even brighter lights lining the shop floor featuring some of the latest devices that Ignis had only seen featured in public transport ads. 

Gladio strode past Ignis, leaning his elbows against one of the counters to give the attendant behind it an easy grin as he plucked a receipt from inside his inside jacket pocket.

“I’m here to pick up an order,” said Gladio, handing the receipt over, “gift wrapped too.”

“We’ll sort that out for you right away sir.”

“And while you’re at it—” Gladio pointed at a display case with his chin “—is that phone the newest model?” 

“Yes sir, it was released last week.”

“Perfect, I’ll take that too.”

Ignis watched bewildered as the attendant darted out to the backrooms to collect Gladio’s items, then back at Gladio, who continued to lean casually against the counters, examining a row of high end watches below him.

“So,” Gladio began, “gimme a time frame.”

Ignis cleared his throat.

“I’ve six months to submit my thesis. Then if it all goes well, it’s a maximum of two, four months for approval. So eight to ten months.”

“You sound so sure about that approval,” Gladio drawled.

Crossing his arms, Ignis scoffed. “Confident even.”

“What does approval mean?”

“Means I have a shot at the graduate role I’m eyeing. I’ve got a real stab at it, but they’ll only offer it when they award me my doctorate.”

Gladio let out a laugh, low and amused from the back of his throat.

“What?” snapped Ignis.

Gladio looked as if he was going to continue but the attendant returned with two small boxes, one gift wrapped, the other dark and stamped with a brand Ignis could only dream to afford, and slipped them both into a fancy shopping bag.

“Nothing,” he said. He pulled out his credit card from a sleek black wallet and handed it over to the attendant before she could even begin reading out the final cost from the till. “Thanks.”

***

The finely tailored suits on mannequins and the sharply dressed attendants beside them with their equally as sharp sneers meant that the next floor was the men’s department.

Gladio walked ahead of Ignis, and Ignis could only follow along as Gladio spoke with one of the attendants.

“We’ll have them sent off to your car right away sir,” said the neatly dressed woman in her tightly drawn bun.

“Thanks, you’re a doll,” said Gladio with what Ignis could see from beside him was a lurid wink.

“Is there anything else I can help with?” said the unaffected attendant.

“There is actually,” said Gladio. He clapped a hand over Ignis’s shoulder. “Alright, you’re up next.”

“Up next for what?” asked Ignis,suddenly self conscious under the shop attendant’s matronly gaze.

“You had a lot of guts turning up today lookin’ like my dad on a golfing afternoon.”

Heat climbed up Ignis’s neck and to his ears, despite the air conditioning inside the department store. Ignis shot Gladio a glare. “I beg your pardon?” 

The bastard took one look at Ignis’s scowl and  _ laughed. _

“If I’m taking you to places where my friends or colleagues are gonna be, then y’better not look like I plucked you out of my Dad’s golf buggy.”

“Well, pardon me that I can’t spare the money for something as superfluous as my wardrobe,” Ignis spat out, shrugging Gladio’s hand off his shoulder.

" _ Relax,  _ this is where I come in." Gladio turned back to the matronly attendant. "Think you can whip something up for my friend here? I'd say, something for going out, something casual then somethin' semi formal," he leaned forward and muttered something inaudible to the attendant, and then turned back to Ignis, “I gotta go grab something else, you make sure you pick from what they give you,” he added, and even the matronly attendant sternly nodded.

"Cus if you don't, then  _ I  _ will,” he called out as he headed towards the escalators.

With a deep sigh, Ignis drew up a large breath, steeling himself as the matronly attendant politely pushed him towards the direction of the dressing rooms.

***

After what felt like a long indeterminate but tormenting amount of time, being tugged by foreign hands one way and another, Ignis stepped out of the dressing rooms a new man. One of the gentlemen who had manhandled him in the process had informed him that Mr. Amicitia had instructed that his “friend here will wear the going out outfit, out”, right after unceremoniously dumping Ignis’s old clothes in a department store bag.

Though the clothes weren’t exactly tailored—Ignis could never imagine spending money on that for everyday items of clothing—they were at least finally his size, something Ignis hadn’t been able to afford in a while, buying off sale racks or outlet stores. It was the light button up shirt with th chevron stripes that he kept on, and a pair of dark jeans that, though the attendant had informed him it was the correct fit, felt far too unfamiliarly snug against Ignis’s rear.

“You clean up well,” said Gladio, leaning his hip against the counter once more, with another shopping bag added hanging off the crook of his elbow.

“Hush you,” muttered Ignis, avoiding the leer that travelled up and down his figure. “These are a bit much,” he finally admitted, having spotted the same black plastic card between Gladio’s fingers. Yes, Ignis had every intention of taking advantage of the situation, but this much so soon?

Ignis almost felt offended. When put to work, Ignis could really apply himself.

“A gift for our first meeting,” said Gladio with a wave of his hand, “besides, how could I have taken ya anywhere looking like you did today? Everyone’ll think I’m showing my Dad’s golf caddie around—”

“I get it,” Ignis hissed.

“Are you free for the rest of the evening?” asked Gladio, with nary even a blink at the impressive figures on the till display as he swiped his credit card. 

Half-hoping that something would come out of this leap of faith, Ignis had kept the evening free.

Ignis nodded reluctantly. 

“Good,” Gladio slipped his card back into this wallet. “I’m taking you out to dinner.”

***

It should have been another short ride back in Gladio’s car, but it was made longer by the evening traffic of commuters rushing to get home in the pouring rain. To Ignis’s surprise, and maybe the slightest tinge of disappointment, Gladio had kept his gaze out towards the window for the majority of it, pulling out his phone here and there before finally opening his mouth to speak. 

“So eight months,” said Gladio, finally meeting Ignis’s glance from beside him. “That gives us our end date, whenever your— your thing gets approved,” he said with a wave of his hand. “You offer me your companionship for that duration of time, I cover your expenses and some spending money on the side. How’s that sound?”

Recoiling within himself, Ignis crossed his arms across his chest, hugging them tighter than usual around himself. Gladio had put it so plainly and businesslike. His words cut crisp against the batter of the rain against the car, the swipe of the windshield wipers like a tick-tock of a timer waiting for Ignis’s response.

“What exactly does companionship entail?” Ignis finally asked.

“I dunno, haven’t you ever dated someone?” 

“Of course I have,” said Ignis, affronted.

“There ya go, it’s like that, ‘except I’m payin’ ya for it.” 

“Well— what would you need me do?” Ignis prodded further.

“What part of ‘ _ Technically I’m dating you, but I’ll pay you _ ’ don’t you understand?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never really looked into having— forming—”

“Getting a sugar daddy,” said Gladio teasingly.

Ignis’s ears burned in the face of Gladio’s obnoxious grin, but he continued through gritted teeth, “— _ receiving compensation for companionship _ .”

“You will soon enough,” said Gladio with another loud laugh.

They fell into another heavy silence, at least to Ignis it was, though Gladio only looked out the window at the gray curtains of rain, bored, as if offering strangers off the street money for companionship was something he did everyday.

The car rolled forward ever so slightly in traffic.

“How often would you need me?” Ignis asked.

“Need?” Gladio snorted, eyes still trained out the window. He scratched the back of his head. “However often I wanna see you I guess.  _ Man, _ you ask a lot of questions.”

“I don’t know about you, but I like to actually know what I’m getting into before I actually do it.”

“Can’t we just play it by ear?” said Gladio.

“Maybe  _ you  _ can, but need I remind you, I do have my job and my studies—a life outside of this.”

Gladio snapped his head towards Ignis, his expression unreadable, almost dark, and for a split second Ignis thought he had royally screwed it up, that he had pushed the man enough to be thrown out of his car.

Instead, he threw his head back and let out another full-bellied laugh.

“Fine— fine—” he sighed, “Let’s say then— once a week. Let’s start off with meeting up once a week and we’ll see where we go from there.”

“I suppose that will do for now,” Ignis finally resigned himself to say, frowning at Gladio’s amused grin at the response. 

The car eventually inched forward enough times to pull up in front of a tall, building made up of old dark brick, with a security guard posted by the entrance. Gladio was let through with a mere curt nod, and they walked passed through the heavy metal door and down a narrow set of metal stairs, and out to a dimly lit restaurant floor.

It was ironic, really. The institution emulated exteriors of the broken down and derelict, yet the security guard only served to remind its passersby of its exclusivity to the rich and powerful it held within.

“Right. Let’s set some ground rules,” said Gladio once the waiter had taken their order. They were seated by the hostess at a table near the back, and unable to read the menu over the dim lighting, Gladio had ordered for them both. His voice dropped down lower, taking on a serious quality that Ignis had seldom heard from the man. “None of that Daddy business.”

Ignis raised an eyebrow. “Not your cup of tea?”

“I know I joked about you being your sugar daddy, but just—” Gladio sighed “—just so we’re clear, please don’t actually call me that.”

Ignis scoffed. “Wouldn’t even dream of it.”

“What about you?” said Gladio, reclining into his chair.

Something about Gladio seemed licentious, and a part of Ignis had braced himself for the potential depravity that Gladio would have in store for him. Ignis frowned. This needed more thorough deliberation. 

“You’ll have to give me time to come up with that.”

Gladio raised an eyebrow.

“So I can put thought into a list.”

Gladio let out a laugh, and by god, that sound would never stop grating on Ignis.

“Fine, fine, I’ll let you write up a list,” Gladio said.

“But for the time being,” said Ignis with a deep inhale, “a respect for my schedule is paramount.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Gladio said, then added in almost the same beat, “how often do you want me to pay you?” 

Ignis startled in his seat. “Is that not something for you to decide?”

“Hey you’re the one who needs money here. How about we start off with something once a week first, a payment everytime we meet, then we’ll go from there?”

“That sounds fine,” was all Ignis could manage. It wasn’t as if Ignis had any precedent to follow, and the talk of actual money only cemented the reality of this arrangement further. 

The waiter brought out the entrees first, an eclectic set of small plates that they quietly worked through, before after some time of terse silence, they were brought their identical mains.

"I figure this would be the best time to sort this out." Gladio dug through his pockets pulling out the dark matte box from the department store.

Before Ignis could remark that surely Gladio can wait until he was home to play with his new gadgets, Ignis found himself looking up from his meal and at the box in front of him and at Gladio's hand holding his own phone out.

"This is yours," he said, then held out his phone, "then put your number in here."

"You've got to be  _ joking."  _

"How else am I meant to contact you?" 

"I've got my own phone!" Ignis exclaimed. Sure it was an old model he had lying around, a spare he had to revert to after his usual phone met its end on the pavement. But it did its job fine. 

Gladio rubbed the back of his neck. "Just take it will ya?" 

The clothes were one thing. But not only had Ignis seen how much this phone had cost, it felt to him as if his contact details were just another expense Ignis must make to even out the odds.

"If it makes you feel any better, let's say it's to make up for me breaking your last one." 

Slowly Ignis took the box in his hand feeling its weight, trying to recall the numbers he had seen at the till. 

"Thank you," Ignis mumbled, and that was that. He looked back down at his plate, staring at his food intently as he scoffed the rest of his dinner down. The clothes, the phone, the meal—each gift began to weigh heavy in Ignis's gut as the evening progressed.

And yet, all Gladio did was quietly eat, unsettling Ignis. 

They  _ had _ sorted out the schedules and the money, but there was one nagging feeling in Ignis’s mind that he expected Gladio to bring up with his trademark lecherous grin once they had finished their dinner, but he didn’t even bring it up during their experimental dessert either, nor on the almost silent car ride. Ignis had spent the ride twisting the heavy denim of his jeans in his sweaty palms, heart pounding as their evening drew to a close.

Ignis had asked to be dropped off a building away from his apartment block, though he wondered why he had even bothered if the evening was to take the turn that he expected it to. After all, Gladio had called this their first meeting. He had already paid for Ignis’s clothes and a a  _ meal. _ Gladio would want his money’s worth.

The car eventually came to a stop. The rain had completely let up, and Ignis had never been more relieved to see the familiar, even if a bit mundane, sight of his quiet street.

Gladio then pulled out a chequebook from inside his jacket pocket, and a sleek black pen.

“Send me your schedule and your bank details,” said Gladio, not looking up from what he scribbled into the cheque. “But this should do for the time being.” With a flourish, Gladio tore the cheque out of its pad, handing it to Ignis.

“What? So soon—” Ignis began,  _ and for such a large amount too, _ “You’ve already given me so much today.”

““Think of it as an advance,” said Gladio with another smug grin. “You said your rent was due soon right? Can't really put you to work either if you end up out in the streets. Unless you  wanted a live-in arrangement—?"

" _ Thank you, _ " Ignis said, almost too loudly, "for everything tonight. I'll— I'll ensure I won't disappoint."

"I'm counting on it," Gladio chuckled. 

Meanwhile, the driver opened the door to the passenger seat, with several shopping bags from the trunk in his hands, some of which Ignis didn’t even recall from earlier, and only then did Ignis become acutely aware of how much the man had spent on him as he stepped out of the sleek car, bag handles looped around his arms.

“You’re not going to—?” Ignis asked, a crack in his voice as he gestured in the direction of one of the darkened apartment buildings.

“Gonna what?”

“I mean—” Ignis cleared his throat. The air was still cool from the fresh rain, but it did nothing to diminish the warmth pooling in his cheeks. “Isn’t this what you’re paying me for?”

After a few slow blinks, Gladio let out a large laugh that made Ignis frown. 

“If it’s just sex that I wanted, I know where to get that easy, so no, that’s not just what I’m paying you for,” said Gladio.

“You never actually told me,” said Ignis, “What  _ do  _ you want?”

The lines of laughter on Gladio’s face faded. Gladio blinked back dumbly.

“I guess,” Gladio’s shoulders slumped, his eyes cast to the still wet concrete. “I want something easy.”

“I see,” said Ignis, though he didn’t at all.

“I’ll be in touch.” said Gladio.

***

Ignis awoke to the mess of shopping bags stamped with high end brand names, confirming that he was indeed, not living the most bizarre fever dream, and that he hadn’t conjured up the cheque that he had stuffed into his pocket the night prior.

There was little by way of worst case scenarios. If it were indeed just some elaborate joke, the cheque might bounce, in which case Ignis would rather move on with his life, and just enjoy the new set of clothes, then change his number on his new phone. If this were some form of illegally acquired money, then Gladio was doing a poor job at hiding it. That was clearly his name written and signed for on the cheque in surprisingly neat and flowing cursive. There was no way Ignis could be anything but the hapless victim in this scenario.

Nevertheless, Ignis caught the bus to a bank branch further away from his usual branch, just in case—just in case Gladio was hiding behind a pot plant ready to laugh, and/or a camera crew filming him for some sort of reality nightmare—the cheque burning a hole in his pocket in his pocket.

The cheque cleared with no fuss. The weight that had been hanging on Ignis’s shoulders for  _ months  _ lifted, and it stayed off when he wired his rent and utilities ahead of schedule and he realised he  _ still _ had more than enough left over than Ignis knew what to do with. He may even have enough to cover rent the next month, and that thought in and of itself was exhilarating.

_ Shit. _ Maybe he  _ could _ do something with this. 

Other than a picture of what seemed to be Gladio’s STD test results later that day, which Ignis begrudgingly replied to with his own most recent test, there was no other contact from Gladio that following Wednesday, nor on Thursday, and by Friday, Ignis was getting antsy. There was no worse feeling to Ignis than a favour owed, and though it filled Ignis with a quiet joy to be able to take Cindy and Prompto out to dinner that night he normally worked through, there was no forgetting that that money was from something we still owed Gladio.

“You keep checkin’ your phone this evening,” Cindy cooed. “We not interestin’ company enough for you darl? I mean, I won’t really blame ya if it’s a cute guy. I’m sure that’s plenty more interestin’ than us.”

“I’m just checking my e-mails,” Ignis smoothly lied, tucking his phone away in his pocket, still the old backup model he had lying around—if he started toting around that monster Gladio had gifted him, his friends were sure to ask questions. And this wasn’t something he was ready to broach with his friends just yet.

“Aw come on Iggy, you can stop working for a bit!” said Prompto, “we barely see you during the week, your boring old e-mails can wait till Monday.”

Ignis sighed. “I suppose they could.”

And Prompto and Cindy were none the wiser.

It wasn’t until late in the evening just as Ignis had finished brushing his teeth to get ready for bed that his phone rang.

“ _ Hey. _ ” Came a familiar deep and infuriating voice.

“Whatever happened to a respect for my schedule?” asked Ignis plainly.

A loud laugh echoed through the phone’s tinny speakers.

“ _ I’m a busy man too y’know?” _ said Gladio, but Ignis could not mistake the chatter from the other end of the line, and the low thump of music. “ _ Speaking of which, you free tomorrow night? _ ”

“As it happens, yes, I happen to be.”

_ “Great. My car’ll be around your place ‘round eight.” _

“That works.”

_ “Sounds good. And Iggy?” _

Ignis winced at the overfamiliar nickname.  _ “ _ What? _ ”  _ he asked through gritted teeth.

_ “Wear somethin’ nice.” _

***

Ignis spent the Saturday morning putting around his house doing chores, organising notes for his thesis, updating Rosemary’s medication schedule until a text message buzzed on his phone.

“ _ Still up for tonight?” _ it asked.

Ignis paused a beat, then typed out a response in the affirmative before dragging himself to his bedroom. He had hours left yet, but the nerves in his gut had him turning on his laptop and typing out the same search terms he had typed out more than a month ago, with an entirely different mindset.

There were entire  _ forums _ on the subject, of sugar daddies and, Ignis wrinkled his nose at the term, their sugar  _ babies. _ Reading the outrageous amounts people were getting, the terms and conditions their, ahem, benefactors requested made Ignis’s situation feel more real.

Not all relationships had to be about sex, though most were—and if their conversation in Gladio’s car was any indication, the man definitely expected Ignis to put out. Not that Ignis had problem with that—it was just as much as a perk for him that Gladio would pay him to get near that dick.

But it was never enough for Ignis to simply do something. He also had to  _ excel  _ in it. Novelty had to be his biggest pull to Gladio, Ignis couldn’t fathom why else he’d choose to offer Ignis this arrangement of all people. Ignis would have to keep him interested if he wanted to draw this out and benefit from his gains for as long as possible, and he scoured post after post for what advice and information he could get.

_ Men like them, the rich, famous, sometimes powerful—they like to feel important,  _ one post described.  _ Make them feel needed, show them how much you want them, but don’t forget to spoil them too. _

Make them feel needed.

The thought made Ignis recoil on his bed. That was the  _ last _ thing he wanted Gladio to think, nor anyone for that matter.

_ But it was a worth a try, wasn’t it? _

By ten to eight, Ignis had rearranged his kitchen, bought his groceries, fed Rosemary and given her her medication, drafted his next thesis chapter, set up his new phone— _ Your daddies love it when he sees you use his gifts, _ Ignis recalled with a weary sigh— _ and  _ he had picked out an outfit and attempted something with his hair. Another text message sounded off on his now brand new phone, and Ignis headed out of his apartment building, where the same sleek black car from a few days ago waited. As before, the driver opened the door to the back seat, and Ignis awkwardly stepped in, seating himself beside Gladio.

“Hey,” said Gladio, eyes blinking down Ignis’s figure in a curious leer.

Ignis simply gave him a nod.

“Ya clean up well.”

Ignis drew his mouth into a thin line after the faintest of thank yous. Then he asked, “now where were we going exactly?

“A new place downtown opened up, and I wanted to give it a try. It’s nothin’ fancy so I thought it’d be perfect for our first proper date.” Gladio grinned at Ignis’s obvious flinch at the term, then continued, “Nothin’ to be nervous about.”

“I’m not nervous.”

“Just makin’ sure,” Gladio chuckled. He stretched his arm across the back seat, slotting it over Ignis’s shoulders. “I can help ya relax if you were.”

“That won’t be necessary then,” said Ignis, and that only garnered another laugh.

This venue was darker and dingier than the last place Gladio had taken Ignis to, and although Gladio had said the place was new, he hadn’t mentioned that it was the  _ opening evening _ . Far more glitzier patrons stood queued beyond a velvet rope that Gladio breezed through, his hand on Ignis’s lower back making him freeze up as he nudged him along. 

The low thump of music echoing from inside coincided with the thump of Ignis’s pulse in his puffed out chest, as he steeled himself for awaited inside. Gladio’s hand never left his lower back as they weaved through the crowd along the main bar, some of whom seemed to be familiar with Gladio with the way they looked him up and down or stopped him for a brusk greeting. It wasn't as if Ignis hadn't prepared himself for a social interaction with the elite, but it was only then he realised that he and Gladio hadn't talked about what their story was. 

But a small gaggle had approached Gladio and invited them over to their table, and all Gladio did was politely greet them and simply introduce him as “Iggy. He’s shy though, so we’re gonna find somewhere private to get to know each other a little better. Have a nice evening fellas.” 

Ignis was mortified. He wasn't  _ shy. _

Eventually they reached a booth to the very back of the bar, away from the bustling crowds. Gladio sank down in the seat’s leather with a heavy sigh, sprawling out without hesitation. He ordered a whiskey from the server, not even chancing a glance at the menu in front of him, grinning when Ignis ordered the same.

“Finally,” said Gladio. 

“I would’ve thought you’d relish the attention,” Ignis scoffed from the seat beside him, nursing the cool glass of his drink with both hands. 

“Are you kidding? Lemme tell y’what  _ Iggy _ , when you asked me what I wanted out of this, I’ll level with ya, I didn’t actually know.” Gladio’s casual tone and the shrug that accompanied it made Ignis snort into his cup.

“But yet, you’re hot, and apparently a freak in bed”—Ignis thumped his chest with a fist, choking on the burn of his whiskey— “but more importantly do you see this?”

“A dark dank booth in a bar?”

“Dark, dank  _ and _ empty.”

“So what on earth did you bring me all the way here to do then if you wanted to sit in an empty booth in a bar?”

“You’re doing it,” said Gladio. “No one’s approachin’ me ‘cus they see I’m attached. I can just sit back and have a drink in peace at a place I’ve always wanted to try out without everyone swarming me.”

“What a horrid life you must live.”

“Tell me ‘bout it,” said Gladio with an exaggerated sigh. “That said, you did a pretty good job back there.”

“Doing what?”

“Grade A clinging I’d expect from the finest of sugar babies.”

“Do  _ not _ call me that.”

“Sugar  _ Iggy _ ?”

“Even worse.”

“That your ground rule then?”

“Let’s add that as one.”

Gladio flashed him another grin and Ignis couldn’t help but feel more irritated. Ignis would blame the heat in his cheeks from his drink.

“If you really wanted space to yourself,” said Ignis, “couldn’t you just cordon off an area? Pay the bar?”

“I could, but how do you think that’d look?” said Gladio, “Gladiolus Amicitia, drinkin’ alone like some loser.”

So all Gladio needed was a set piece. Ignis would be offended if he hadn’t recalled all the glamorous men and women who clamoured around him when they first entered, and how any of them would gladly take Ignis’s place at any moment’s notice, once Ignis’s novelty had worn off on Gladio. And Ignis wasn’t about to let this go, not when he had just relished the taste of financial stability, not so soon at least, when he hadn’t even shown what he was capable of.

Ignis took a swig of his drink, before slowly sidling closer beside Gladio.

“It would be less believable too, if I just sat here.” Ignis placed a hand on Gladio’s chest, feeling out a pulse that could drown out his own. “Knowing the kind of guy people believe you to be.”

“Wha—”

“You said we were getting to know each other better,” Ignis continued in a low whisper, hoping the quake in his voice would go unheard amongst the din of the patrons of the bar’s music. “We should probably make it look like we are.”

Slamming his glass down on the table, Gladio let out another laugh. Ignis frowned, but Gladio’s arm snaked around his shoulders, pulling Ignis closer against his side.

“You’re a bit of an overachiever y’know that?

“No point in doing anything if you’re not doing it well.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” and Gladio pressed his lips over Ignis’s, the strong taste of alcohol and the heady smell of cologne making Ignis’s head swim, only for Gladio to eventually pull away.

“You look so upset,” Gladio chuckled, “But if you keep this up, I might get us kicked out of my new favourite bar. ” Nevertheless, Gla dio kept his arm around Ignis’s shoulders as they drank. “We could try and  _ actually _ get to know each other. That’d be convincing too.”

“I’m sure I know all there is to know about you, and there’s not much else to me I’m afraid.”

“Yeah? You said you’re a student right? Student of what?”

“Politics.”

Gladio let out a bark of laughter. “Really? What, you wanna be the next president of Insomnia or somethin’?” 

“ _ Hardly _ ,” Ignis said. “I plan to stay in academia mostly.”

“Doin’ what.”

“Contributing to the literature. Teaching future students, getting my viewpoints out there.”

“Sounds pointless.”

“What does?”

“What’s the point? No one’ll ever listen to ya if you’re not  _ in _ politics.”

“Oh and I suppose  _ you _ get a say, because you have your big scary weapons to tote around to back them.”

“Not to mention the money they’re worth, that helps too,” said Gladio smugly. “Who knows, maybe if you stick with me long enough, you could just  _ pay _ someone to write up whatever big old book you get out of it.”

“My  _ thesis. _ ”

“Same thing.”

Ignis pushed himself off Gladio’s chest to shoot him a glare. “It’s deplorable that you would even suggest such a thing.”

“Ya said you’re pressed for time right? Not like that fancy job your gunnin’ for will be waiting for ya if ya slip up. Might as well put all your resources to use if you wanna get it right in one go.”

“Not everyone is as morally deprived as you.” The biting words were out before Ignis even realised with wide eyes that he had said them. 

“Too right!” Gladio only chuckled to Ignis’s combined surprise and relief, then Gladio’s hot breath was against his neck as he muttered, “I was starting to miss your bite already.”

“Not that that’s all that hard to keep up around you.”

“Sounds like you  _ do _ know all there is to know about me.”

“You gave me a business card with your full name on it,”  _ you dolt _ , Ignis wanted to add, but maybe that was a touch too far, “I had to do my research and see for sure if your offer was legitimate.”

“That’s fair,” said Gladio with a solemn nod. He took a sip of his drink, then with a wink, squeezed Ignis’s shoulder. “I know I can be too good to be true.”

This time, Ignis couldn’t hold back his pained groan. “And yet you have to pay someone to withstand your presence . I don’t see why you couldn’t just pick out any of the men and women out there and drag them back here.”

“Eh, they’d actually want my attention.” Gladio took a sip of his drink. “Meanwhile, this cold shoulder act you got goin’ on is both convenient and a turn-on.”

“Who says it’s an act?”

“You’re cute when you’re pissy.” The hand on Ignis’s shoulder travelled down to his waist. “Lemme have my drink, then I can have you running hot enough to drop the act.”

Despite Gladio’s warning, and his hand never moving away from Ignis, they spent the rest of the evening quietly nursing their drinks, with Gladio asking the occasional question that Ignis deflected where he could. Strangely enough, no one else did approach their booth for the evening. Compared to their last evening together, Ignis was more pleasantly buzzed than a hair away from plastered, that Gladio’s hand around his waist as he led them out the bar was more comforting than intrusive.

“Is this how you wile away all your evenings?” asked Ignis back in the car.

“I wish,” said Gladio. “Normally I’ve always got someone lookin’ for me. Who would’ve thought telling everyone I was  _ dating _ someone was all it took?”

“Is  _ that _ what you’ll be telling everyone?”

“Relax,” Gladio flapped his hand in Ignis’s direction. “Once the eight months or whatever wrap up I can just tell ‘em you dumped my ass, easy enough to believe.”

The car stopped at a set of lights, at an intersection that would take them out of the city and into the suburbs, back to where Ignis lived.

“You live ‘round this way right?” asked Gladio, the driver in front looking over his shoulder back at them.

For all their closeness in the bar, it took Ignis by surprise that Gladio wasn’t initiating anything further. Why was he suddenly so hesitant? Was he backing out of his arrangement with Ignis, now that he had seen what poor company Ignis made? Without even giving Ignis the chance to show him what sex with Ignis was like, when he  _ wasn’t _ two or three hairs away from plastered?

The nerve.

With all the people throwing themselves at Gladio, he’d never be wanting of a partner for an arrangement like this. 

“Don’t you want to take me home?” Ignis said softly.

“I dunno,” said Gladio. That  _ obnoxious  _ grin returned. “Do you want me to?”

Make him feel needed, Ignis recalled, make him feel wanted.

“If you mess around with me any longer, I’m liable to changing my mind.”

“Can’t have that can’t we?” Gladio nodded up at his driver. “Take us back to my place.”

***

The elevator ride up to Gladio’s apartment was starkly different for the first night they spent together. Ignis’s chest was drawn tight, in nerves, but also in  _ anticipation  _ of Gladio’s next move, but all he did was stroke Ignis’s back, all the way past the door of his apartment.

“Can I get you another drink?” asked Gladio.

“I’m fine thanks,” Ignis croaked out. It was a strange feeling to find himself back in the same stylish apartment he had stumbled into the month before. 

“Right to the chase then?” Gladio chuckled, slipping his suit jacket off his shoulders. “You seemed pretty interested in my countertops last night. Check out the fridge too while you’re at it, it’s industrial grade—”

Ignis ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. “Look, are you going to fuck me or not?”

Gladio let out a booming laugh that only grated on Ignis further. “You’re not very good at this at all.”

“Says the man who most clearly stated that he doesn’t even know what he wants from this arrangement.”

“Easy.” Gladio shucked off his jacket to hang on a chair by the end of the living room. He took a step closer to Ignis, and held Ignis’s hips in his hands, pulling them close against his. “I want  _ you _ .”

Ignis barely had the time to register the hunger in Gladio’s words and how his gaze darkened before he sealed Ignis’s lips with a ravenous kiss. There was no hesitation in the way Gladio slid his tongue past Ignis’s lips,  sliding his own tongue back enthusiastically and failing to suppress a moan when their hips pressed against each other, chasing that contact he had sought from Gladio all night.

“You wanted me pretty bad in there didn’tcha?”

“I’m not honouring that with a response.” Ignis fumbled with Gladio’s shirt buttons as a stubbled mouth continued to assault his lips. “You’re going to have to get it out of me.”

“I love a challenge.”

Ignis snorted. “I doubt you’ve ever had to lift a finger in your life, let alone even know what a challenge  _ is _ .”

“I know one when I see one.”

Their mouths crashed into each other again, with Gladio navigating them towards the couch. Not one to keep waiting, Ignis pushed Gladio to sit down by his shoulders. Satisfied with how Gladio’s shirt hung open to frame his bare chest, the dusting of dark hair visible in the low light of the living room, he straddled Gladio’s hips, unbuttoning his own jeans, before Gladio’s hands took over to shove them down his thighs. 

An amused grin spread on Gladio’s face and he shook away a soft laugh.

“Not sexy at all Iggy,” he said in a low voice, snapping back the waistband of Ignis’s blue boxers with his thumb. “I thought I bought you somethin’ nicer to wear than these?”

“You didn’t give me enough time to pick something out,” Ignis snapped back.

“A lesson for next time.” Gladio deftly undid the buttons of Ignis’s shirt, running his hand over Ignis’s bare torso. “I mean I can always help ya pick somethin’ out next time.” His hands cupped and squeezed at Ignis’s rear. “Somethin’ to really show off this cute ass of yours.”

Ignis’s cheeks burned at the compliment, and unable to withstand his leer any longer, he busied his hands unbuttoning Gladio’s slacks and zipping down the fly. Gladio pulled him back against him, grinding his groin against Ignis’s. With only the soft material of their underwear between them, Ignis could better feel Gladio’s growing hardness against his, and the prickle of want travelling up his spine when it elicited memories of how big, and thick he had felt inside him.

Gladio released his vice grip on Ignis’s ass long enough to fish something out of his pockets, tossing a foil wrapper and a tube on the couch beside him.

Ignis swallowed a hard lump down his throat. “You had those with you.”

“I didn’t know  _ where _ I was gonna fuck you. But fuck, I knew I really wanted to.”

“We’re never going to get there if I leave it to you and your running mouth.” Ignis raised himself off his knees, and stepped off the couch, lowering himself to kneel between Gladio’s legs. He tugged at the waistband of Gladio’s dark  briefs, revealing Gladio’s cock with no ceremony. His thick uncut cock stood semi-erect, jutting from dark pubes.

“I love that,” muttered Gladio with a low chuckle. His thumb ran along Ignis’s lower lip, which Ignis hadn’t even realised hung open. “Never seen someone as hungry for my cock as—”

Swatting Gladio’s hand away, he slid his lips down Gladio’s cock in one stroke, enough for the head of his cock to nudge the back of his throat. It cut Gladio off with a strangled groan, and Ignis counted that as a win as he slowly dragged his tongue along the underside, laving the shaft with his saliva. He tongued along the slit, pumping the base with one hand, wetting his lips as Gladio’s foreskin retracted to reveal more of his cock head.

“That’s a much better sound than your chattering,” Ignis said, before taking his cock in his mouth again, bobbing his head and groaning around his girth, his gut coiling as he felt it swell even thicker to stretch against his lips while he worked his cock in his mouth.

Slipping his mouth off Gladio’s cock with a lurid pop, Ignis reached over past Gladio's thigh to take the tube of lube, squeezing it over one hand. Slipping one hand down his boxers, he pressed one finger inside his entrance, hissing at the intrusion, before taking Gladio's cock back in his mouth. 

"Fuck—  You really are a slut— " Gladio groaned from above him. Ignis sucked around his cock, relishing in the deep groan that elicited before plunging a second finger in. Focused on sucking Gladio off and wiping that self satisfied grin off his face, Ignis could only erratically thrust his fingers into his own entrance, before giving up on the endeavour entirely and wrapping both hands around the base of Gladio's cock, swallowing down more of his girth until his nose pressed against Gladio's pubes. 

His own cock ached in his boxers, he could feel the wet tip against the material. Lost in the heady smell of Gladio, and the rough fucking his throat was receiving, he almost missed the wet finger that pressed against his entrance and rubbed slow circles against him. 

"Ah—" Taken by surprise, Ignis let Gladio's stiff cock fall out of his mouth, moaning against Gladio's thick thigh. 

"I didn't think you'd be able to do it well enough for me baby," Gladio said, stooped over Ignis's back to better press another finger in. Ignis gasped against his thigh. Ignis hadn't slept with anyone  _ since  _ Gladio and fucking himself on his own fingers during nights where he was too keyed up could never match up to this. Just when Ignis could say he had gotten accommodated, Gladio curled his fingers, and Ignis saw stars, clasping a hand over his mouth before a scream could escape. 

"Fuck, you're so tight—" With his free hand, Gladio pried Ignis's hand off his mouth, settling it on his knee instead. "Come on, I like to hear I'm doin' something right." 

"Marginally better than my cheap dildo at home," grunted Ignis, thrusting back against the fingers behind him, sucking Gladio's cock a lost cause at this point. 

"Cheap? That's sad Iggy. When I'm done with ya I'll give you somethin' fancier. But for now, you get to enjoy the real thing. You ready?" 

Ignis frantically nodded, fearful of how desperate anything he could say would be if he opened his mouth. 

A sharp slap connected with his rear, making Ignis hiss. Gladio ripped open the foil wrapper, but Ignis grabbed him by the wrist. With one hand around the base of Gladio's cock, Ignis rolled the condom down Gladio's shaft, before coating it with lube. 

"How do you wanna take me?" asked Gladio. 

That’s what Gladio’s been trying to do all evening.

He  _ wanted _ to hear Ignis ask for it.

"Like this," said Ignis, stepping out of his boxers before clambering back into Gladio's lap. He reached back to line the tip of his cock with his entrance. "So you don't even have to lift a finger."

Even Ignis had to admit that it was an ambitious move, all to deny Gladio what we wanted to hear, as he slowly sank down to let the head of Gladio’s cock press inside him. He swallowed as it caught the rim and Ignis almost had to curse his own hubris. He hadn’t had nearly enough alcohol to ignore the stretch around Gladio’s girth, and just how much of him he had left to take in. 

“Come on  _ overachiever, _ you got this,” Gladio muttered. He pressed his lips just above Ignis’s navel, his breath igniting the skin there. “Unless you wanna tap out, I got other ways I can make you scream—”

Ignis grabbed onto the top of his hair, clutching at it in one hand, and gripping onto Gladio’s shoulder with the other. “I can take you.” Ignoring the curious golden gaze that blinked up at him, he grabbed both this shoulders, and rolled his hips downward. “Just watch me.”

“Okay, okay!” A large hand travelled up Ignis’s flank pressing against the muscle as it ran up and down his skin, and even Ignis had to admit that it distracted somewhat from the stretch. “Do your best for me.”

Something about that statement boiled Ignis’s blood that spurred him to keep going, Gladio’s muttered encouragements and the sensation of his scratchy skin travelling up his sternum inching him along, until finally, he could feel the muscle under his thighs brush against the material of Gladio’s slacks.

“You did it,” Gladio chuckled almost breathlessly, impressed, “that’s an  _ A plus _ .”

“Shut up,” Ignis muttered. He didn’t realise how heavy he was breathing until Gladio captured his lips in another kiss, the languid movements of his tongue stirring his cock back to life, gone soft from the journey that was taking in a ten inch dick. Gladio’s hand wrapped around it as they kissed, gently coaxing him back to hardness.

“Fuck— you’re so tight—” Gladio hissed, “I never asked.” His hand gripped on top of Ignis’s knee, stroking up his thigh, while his other hand gently thumbed the slit of Ignis’s dick. “You ever taken in anyone as big as me?”

“Yes.”

“Oh?”

“There was that moron a few weeks ago who didn’t know how to  _ shut up _ .” Ignis said through gritted teeth. He rolled his hips in small circles, getting accustomed to the foreign sensation of being so  _ filled,  _ Gladio’s roaming hands distracting him from the discomfort.

“Sounds like a keeper.” Gladio’s hand reached his chest, and a thumb pressed against Ignis’s nipple, making him shudder. “You almost ready? I can’t wait to fuck you.”

“Sit back Gladiolus,” said Ignis. He raised himself on his knees, groaning at the drag of Gladio’s hard cock outward, “Let me do the work.”

With an amused grin, Gladio sat back against the couch, one arm along the back rest, but kept one hand on Ignis’s hip. 

His gaze not leaving Gladio’s, Ignis began a gentle rhythm, rocking his hips back and forth, stroking himself inside with Gladio’s cock. Soon, he could raise himself until almost only the tip was left in his rim, and sink back down to take Gladio’s cock in one stroke, eliciting loud groans from both men.

“Shit Iggy, you’re fuckin’  _ tight _ —” Gladio’s hands were on this hips, squeezing them as he continued his careful pace. “Anyone ever tell ya how hot you look?”

Ignis’s cheeks flushed with heat, as if they weren’t already from the exertion of impaling himself on this man’s overly large cock. He’d almost forgotten about how talkative Gladio was, if anything, it seemed he had  _ more _ to say in bed than out.

“‘Cus you are,” Gladio continued, hands roaming towards his chest, pausing to take Ignis’s nipples between his thumb and forefinger to roll each nub. Ignis let out a yelp.  _ And _ he was handsy. Like the man couldn’t decide what he wanted to do with Ignis’s body next. “I could watch you take my cock in like that all day—” 

“I bet you’d have all the time in the world,” Ignis grunted. He tilted his hips back, leaning his hands on Gladio’s knees, before more deliberately rolling his hips, breath catching in his throat when Gladio’s cock brushed against his prostate.

“You offerin’?” Gladio grinned, then bucked his hips without warning, and this time Ignis caught his moan with the palm of his hand. “Come on, how does my cock feel?” 

This was all an act, Ignis would tell himself later. Anything to stoke Gladio’s ego, make him feel like Gladio had that sense of importance that men like  _ him  _ never seemed to get enough of.

“Fuck—  _ Gladio—  _ ” Ignis gasped. Gladio’s cock brushed against his prostate again, whisking away whatever practiced phrase he had at the ready, and Ignis’s shuddered gasp only encouraged Gladio to do it again, and again, and  _ again. _ “Oh— Shit— Yes—”

“Finally broke that crazy vocabulary of yours huh.”

“With a cock this big—” Ignis said breathlessly, “one would think you wouldn’t need to  _ overcompensate  _ with all that talk.”

“Sounds like it’s still working.” Gladio slammed his hips upward again, jostling Ignis in his lap and knocking any retort out of Ignis’s mouth, voice spilling out into another incoherent mess of moans.

“Fuck— let’s hear that again— You sound really sexy Iggy, don’t hold yourself back.” 

For all Ignis knew, these were all just stock standard words Gladio used to grease all his partners’ gears, but Ignis couldn’t help but obey, laying the hand covering his mouth on the firm muscle of Gladio’s abs instead as he picked up his pace, meeting Gladio’s leer just as it had finished roaming his body. The heat in his eyes, his hands rubbing against Ignis’s waist, saccharine praises and pleasured groans delivered in that deep rumble that told Ignis he was doing something  _ right _ —it unfurled a heat in Ignis’s stomach, made him fuck himself on Gladio’s cock faster and rougher. 

Ignis’s cock ached, leaking precome down his stomach that Ignis was sure he’d burst if Gladio even so much breathed near it, but it only drew tighter whenever Ignis met Gladio’s eager gaze. When was the last time  _ anyone _ had looked at him as someone to be desired? There was no time for him to ponder an answer, as Gladio began to more vigorously buck his hips upwards, meeting Ignis at every downstroke, the consistent pressure against his prostate making his vision pulse behind his eyelids with every thrust, and another ragged moan to escape unrestrained from his lips. 

“Gladio—!” Ignis cried, his hands pressed against Gladio’s stomach, so there was no way he could muffle himself.

“That’s it baby, that’s what I wanna hear—” Gladio grunted, and he must’ve sensed Ignis was close, because the bastard only moved his hands further away from Ignis’s lower half, gripping his waist in his hands tight, holding him in place as he fucked him in more deliberate thrusts. With every contact Gladio made with his prostate, Ignis lost more and more of his coordination, reduced to roughly being bounced in Gladio’s lap. “You did so good puttin’ on a show for me— Fuck I’m not gonna last long, you’re so tight—”

Ignis clenched around Gladio hard, riding him faster, and it was the grip on his waist tightening he knew it would bruise and Gladio’s shout, followed by a warmth captured by that thin layer of latex inside him that made Ignis slow his thrusts, settling back down in Gladio’s lap. Gladio’s head rolled back against the back rest, eyes fluttered closed for a moment, his chest heaving with heavy breaths.

The sight made Ignis’s cock twitch, his chest filled with exhilaration. Ignis did  _ this.  _

One of Gladio’s eyes opened, a tired smile on his face. 

“Come up here.”

“What?”

Gladio tapped his hip, and slowly Ignis pulled himself off his softened cock, groaning as it slowly emptied him. Large hands guided him to sit up higher, until his leaking cock was level with Gladio’s face. A single wink was the only warning Ignis got until his cock was engulfed by Gladio’s warm mouth, three fingers back in his ass, pawing inside as Gladio worked his cock with his lips. Ignis had no idea how long he was consumed by the overwhelming heat of Gladio’s mouth, his knees trembling, his throat sore and ragged, until the tight coil in his gut was lancing through his dick, releasing into Gladio’s mouth, and Gladio was more than willing to accept it, gently sucking Ignis’s shaft dry until every drop of Ignis’s come was collected. The vice grip on his hips released their hold, and Ignis settled back in Gladio’s lap, his face pressed  against the cushions of the couch as he caught his breath. 

"Okay _ , _ " Gladio said with a tired chuckle, “passed with flying colours.”

“Only a pass?” Ignis found himself replying, meeting Gladio’s grin. “What happened to my  _ A plus _ ?”

“We can go average out your grade if you want.”

“What?”

“Come on,” said Gladio. Without warning, he rose from the couch, hands gripping under Ignis’s thighs. In his panic from having the ground disappear from underneath him, Ignis wrapped his tired legs around Gladio’s waist, his arms clinging to his shoulders for purchase. Gladio laughed again, before his voice climbed low again, stirring something in Ignis’s flaccid cock. “Time for some extra credit.”

***

Ignis hadn’t thought he had anything left in him to take Gladio again the second time around, but Gladio had proved him well wrong, even managing to squeeze a third round out of him, waking up Ignis’s spent cock with that practiced mouth of his. Gladio was obnoxious, that was for sure, but he knew what he was doing, and Ignis couldn’t recall the last time he was physically attracted enough to someone who seemed just as equally as attracted to  _ him. _

And that was the detail he couldn’t quite yet puzzle as he laid in Gladio’s overpriced and firm mattress, coming down from his last orgasm, making way for his rationality to return.

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was his aching ass and tired bones. Maybe it was finding himself again in this man’s bed and his overpriced mattress but this time, returning was completely of his own volition. 

The words escaped between Ignis’s breaths, as they evened out from his high.

“Why me?” he said.

From beside him, Gladio was sitting up, fishing a cigarette packet out of his bedside table. As if Ignis hadn’t enough reasons to find the man distasteful, he also smoked in bed. Catching the glare Ignis hadn’t even realised had taken over, Gladio promptly returned the packet and snapped the drawer shut again, reaching out for his phone instead. 

“Whaddya mean why you?”

“You have your pick of the litter from that bar alone,” Ignis continued, the thought having plagued him since dinner. “Why set this arrangement up with me?”

Gladio glanced up from the glowing screen of his phone. “How many times do I hafta tell you that you’re hot and you’re a good fuck? And your schedule’s weird enough to line up with mine, so you’re convenient.”

“Forget I asked then.”

“Best you don’t Iggy.”

Ignis shifted against the shifts, glancing at the nightstand on his side of the bed where his phone sat. He would really need to head home soon if he wanted to wake up in time.

“It must be hell living like that,” said Ignis. 

“Live like what?” asked Gladio idly, his eyes only briefly glancing from his screen.

“Like you don’t even  _ know _ why you do  _ anything. _ As if you don’t truly know what you want.”

There was no loud laughter this time, or no cocky scowl. Instead Gladio had set his phone back on his bedside table, the back of his head in his hands, his gaze cast up to the ceiling. Then he let out another scoff.

“What about you huh?” 

“What about me?” said Ignis.

“You put yourself through this lifestyle for what? A big ol’ book no one’s ever gonna read?”

“A book and a piece of fancy paper thank you very much,” Ignis bit back.

“All I’m sayin’ is if you wanted it this badly, I dunno why you didn’t just pick somethin’ easier to do than come to me,” said Gladio. “I bet if you gave whoever can offer a leg up to that fancy job of yours a taste of what you’re givin’ me you wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with.”

It only took a split second for Ignis to puzzle out the meaning behind those drawled out words before rage washed over him, heat filling his cheeks.

“ _ I beg your pardon, _ ” Ignis hissed.

“What? ou’re already doing the same with me.” 

“That’s completely different,” Ignis spat out. “There’s a huge distinction between what you’re suggesting and what this arrangement is.” He shot up from the mattress, furiously collecting his belongings, and fumbling to get his clothes back on. “I’m not sure I appreciate what you’re insinuating about me with that comment,” he continued, slipping his shoes on, “but if we are to continue this partnership, then I require at least a modicum of respect.” 

“Come on Iggy, I was just joking,” Gladio sighed, “where’re you going?” 

“Home,” said Ignis, “Unlike you, I actually have someone actually waiting for me to get there.”

That someone was a cat, but Ignis needed his words to sting.

“It’s late Iggy, least lemme call you a cab—” said Gladio, “come on, let’s just forget I said anything.”

The bile Ignis had been trying his damndest to keep down burned in his throat.

“You can't just go around asking people to dismiss the things you said without thinking,” Ignis snapped back. “One day, you might say something no amount of that pretty money of yours could ever undo.” 

Before Gladio could say anything else, Ignis strode briskly out his bedroom door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 chapters in and we're at 20k words? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME
> 
> Luckily I hope you're all staying safe and AT HOME, esp now you got a 10k chapter to go through
> 
> thank you all as always for all your support, i'll try and get back to everyone's kind comments ASAP!


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